#white Lies and Black Murders | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hamsterclaw · 1 month

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Yoongi’s a murder detective fighting burnout when he’s assigned the case that you and your former partner fucked up.

Paring: Yoongi x f! Reader

Genre: Detectives!Yoongi and reader

Rating: 18+

Word count: 6.6k

Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of murder, bloodshed and assault, sex, depression and burnout, mentions of guns

The flashing blue lights in Yoongi’s window are followed by the wail of sirens cutting through the early evening bustle.

Yoongi looks out the window. He’s three floors up from street level, there’s raindrops tracking along the dirty glass, the faint smell of mildew that accompanies any rainfall in this filthy city.

Under the table, his good leather shoes, the ones he saves for weddings and funerals, have rubbed a hole in the skin over his achilles. Yoongi had worn them for his disciplinary hearing today, the part of him that still wants to be a cop temporarily winning over the part of him that doesn’t.

He wonders if this is what burnout feels like.

His superior, Kim Namjoon, had called him into his office after the hearing to tell him he was on probation, to clean up his act because he wouldn’t be so lucky as to get off next time.

The truth is, Yoongi had known while he was pressing the suspect’s face into gravel with his booted foot that it would come back to bite him on the ass.

He’d done it anyway.

Yoongi’s never been kind to scum who exploit children, but his partner, Jung Hoseok, had seen something in Yoongi’s face that day that had made him report Yoongi.

Yoongi doesn’t blame him. Hoseok has been his partner on and off for five years and he’s as sterling as they come. His moral compass is as strong as it was the day they graduated from the academy, despite all the fucked up shit they’ve seen.

Unlike Yoongi.

Yoongi was never black and white to begin with and now he’s so far into the grey he scares himself sometimes. It’s never been his goal to be the kind of cop who metes out his own justice.

Only madness lies that way.

Anyway now Hoseok’s been reassigned temporarily to narcotics, supposedly a break from homicide, and Yoongi’s partnerless.

Probably not for long, there’s always some hungry rookie wanting the credibility of working homicide.

Yoongi sighs, closes the file he’d been skimming. It’s well past seven, there aren’t any open cases that need his immediate attention and he figures he might as well go home to his apartment and his cat, Kenzo.

The pavement’s slippery under the smooth soles of his good shoes, Yoongi pulls his coat tighter against the early autumn chill as he walks the five blocks to his apartment.

The smell of fried wontons fills his nostrils as he passes a conduit street in the back end of Little China, Yoongi’s tempted to stop and pick up dinner.

He’s tempted every time and succumbed yesterday so he soldiers on, not without a pang of regret. He regrets food choices because he’d rather that, than think about his actual regrets.

The bang of a gunshot when he’d been two minutes too late to what then became a crime scene.

Fucking some girl with a cute face because he hadn’t been man enough to treat Mara the way she deserved.

Choosing to stay in homicide even after it had become clear to him that he had plumbed the depths of human depravity. Scarring his psyche repeatedly because it’s easier than making the active choice to request a transfer.

Yoongi unlocks his door, toes his shoes off, hangs up his coat.

There’s a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye, a flash of grey fur as Kenzo skitters across the entryway, close but not touching him.

It’s the kind of greeting Yoongi can get behind.

He pours out a serving of dry food into Kenzo’s dish, heads to the fridge to reheat yesterday’s wontons.

Eats standing at the tiny kitchen island, cracks open a beer to wash it all down.

He catches sight of his face, pinched in the scowl it seems to fall into more often than not these days.

Jesus, is he getting old?

Yoongi avoids looking at his reflection again as he showers. Changes into the same t-shirt he’s been wearing for weeks, contemplates watching porn just to take the edge off, but decides he can’t be bothered.

He falls into sleep, deep and dreamless, wakes up with an almighty crick in his neck just before dawn from the way he’d been huddled in a tight ball under the covers.

He knows he’s not right, but he’s been not right for so long Yoongi wouldn’t even know where to start putting himself together again.

***

Redemption comes in odd packages, Yoongi thinks, as he looks up a case he worked on six months ago, a shady businessman on the fringe of organised crime who’d got high as a kite and beat a sex worker to death.

He’d been killed on the way to serving out his sentence in the cushy prison in Busan his fancy lawyer had managed to negotiate, crushed in the back of the transport vehicle when it had been t-boned by a lorry.

Apparently a freak accident, Yoongi doubts it but he’s also not going to look too closely, it’s out of his jurisdiction and he’s too jaded to mourn the loss of another brutal asshole. They’d had to identify the sex worker by her dental records and DNA, her face had been unrecognisable.

There’s a knock on the frosted glass panel on his office door, Yoongi looks up as Kim Namjoon walks in, followed by the latest hungry rookie angling for a stint in homicide.

‘Min Yoongi, this is Y/N L/N,’ Namjoon says. ‘She’s a new transfer in from the Seoul branch.’

Yoongi doesn’t have to fake his disinterest as he nods politely at you.

‘What’s the case?’ he asks.

Namjoon looks pointedly at the crime scene photo blown up on Yoongi’s screen.

Yoongi waits.

He can feel your gaze on him, but he’ll get to that later.

The anticipation of a new case never gets old, he’s been in homicide since he graduated off the beat ten years ago and he no longer thinks it’s sick of him to get excited about another murder.

It’s the thrill of the hunt that he lives for, the translation of nebulous facts and witness statements into a puzzle that he can solve.

Yoongi’s damn good at his job. It almost makes the sacrifices in the rest of his so-called life worth it.

Namjoon hands Yoongi a case file, crisp, sharp edges waiting to razor his fingertips open. Flat.

Inside, the standard cover page, then a note that makes Yoongi sit up straight out of his slouch.

He looks at Namjoon to find Namjoon’s already looking at him.

‘The reaper of Seoul?’

Yoongi realises as he says the words out loud how it sounds.

The capture and subsequent conviction of the serial killer who’d terrorised the citizens of Seoul for three years had made headlines nationwide.

Last year.

‘Yeah,’ Namjoon says, the tension in his jaw evident now that Yoongi’s looking at him properly.

Namjoon glances at you. ‘It would seem he never left.’

You shift your weight and your eyes meet Yoongi’s.

‘My partner and I broke the case,’ you say. There’s a brittle smoothness to your voice that Yoongi recognises as a paper thin facade over the hauntedness underneath. ‘Turns out we didn’t.’

***

The note in the case file is a single sheet of letter paper, lined in blue.

The handwriting is precise, neat between the lines.

Oh dear.

Better luck this time?

Best regards from your neighbourhood Reaper.

Yoongi looks at you, sitting across the room at the desk Hoseok’s temporarily vacated.

You’re staring at your screen, face backlit in blue, expression unreadable. You’re in black, nondescript knitwear, your hair pushed back from your face, eyes narrowed.

He clears his throat. ‘You worked the case with your partner.’

It’s a statement you answer to like a question.

‘It was the first case I picked up when I joined homicide,’ you say, turning to Yoongi. ‘It started with -‘

‘Kim Seulgi,’ Yoongi says.

You nod, almost grimacing at the name of the Seoul Reaper’s first high profile victim.

‘Her family wanted answers.’

Kim Seulgi had been born of Seoul’s elite, an architect with her grandfather’s firm who had picked up a number of accolades for her work on the National Opera House.

She’d been engaged to an equally accomplished classical pianist, Jeong Minho, and had been the only offspring of her wealthy parents.

She’d disappeared three days before her wedding, only to turn up on her wedding day, floating in the Hangang, dressed in the clothes she’d disappeared in.

You say, ‘She was an ambitious first target.’

‘Was she the first?’ Yoongi asks.

The flicker in your eyes tells him this isn’t the first time you’ve considered this.

‘My partner Kiho.’ There’s strain in your voice. You start again. ‘My partner, Kiho, and I thought he’d killed before.’

You shrug. ‘The captain felt we were wasting time looking back into his early years.’

Yoongi says, neutral, ‘Budgets are limited, your case must have passed the thresholds for plausible deniability.’

‘It seemed to fit,’ you agree.

Your eyes meet again. ‘Not all of it, though.’

Yoongi knows, intimately, what it’s like to not be certain. Sometimes all you have is your instinct. It’s one thing to build a case no reasonable person would doubt, but you’re also betting on your gut. You’re betting on being a good enough detective to know that the pieces fit, without forcing them to fit.

You’re betting on being honest with yourself, and Yoongi knows more than anyone how tempting the lies can be.

Now you’re the one watching him, taking the measure of him.

His email pings.

‘That’s the link to the full case file,’ you say.

You get up, carry a stack of notebooks to his desk.

‘Our notebooks,’ you say.

Yoongi looks at the stack.

Every cop’s got their own collection of notebooks, raw data and impressions that don’t always make it into official reports.

The equivalent of dirty underwear when you’re not expecting company versus lingerie when you’re down to fuck.

This close, he can smell your shampoo, bright and faintly floral.

You blink at him.

‘I need to sort something with human resources,’ you say. ‘I’ll see you later.’

In actual fact it’s 36 hours later when he next sees you, at 4am, at a crime scene.

***

The rain falling is more than a drizzle, enough that the tent around the victim is the first priority.

There’s an imprint of violence in the air, Yoongi knows you feel it too by the way your lips tighten as you duck under the yellow tape to join him.

You nod at him in greeting, then there’s silence as you enter the tent.

The victim’s on her front, face turned to the right, hand tucked under her cheek.

She hasn’t been dead long enough for livedo to set in, she would almost look asleep if it weren’t for the purple of her lips, the greyness to her complexion.

The bath of blood she’s lying in.

Yoongi can just see the edge of the gaping wound on her neck.

You wait until forensics turns her body over.

The top three buttons of her silk blouse are undone, her chest slick with blood.

Yoongi’s reading the crime scene like he’s reading you, and he knows what you’re going to say before you say it.

‘It’s him,’ you breathe. The devastation in your eyes makes it difficult for him to look at you. ‘Fuck, it’s him.’

***

You’re shivering visibly despite the hot coffee Yoongi’s poured you, despite the fact that he’s turned the heating in his ancient Hyundai up as far as it’ll go.

There are droplets of water in your hair, sparkling incongruously in the gloom.

You’re waiting till first light to knock on neighbourhood doors, the victim was found in a quiet cul-de-sac.

Two minutes from her own front door.

Not much chills Yoongi these days but that fact does make him pause.

The audacity of it.

He says, ‘I have a blanket in the trunk.’

You’re protesting but Yoongi gets back out in the rain anyway, grabs the blanket and gets back in.

Hands it to you, takes your cup as you drape the blanket around yourself.

‘It gets colder here than Seoul,’ Yoongi offers, handing you your coffee back.

‘We fucked it up,’ you say, and Yoongi knows that’s what you’ve been thinking since you saw the body.

He’s just been waiting for you to be ready to say it.

‘So make it right,’ he says, simple.

‘An innocent man’s in prison because Kiho and I fucked up,’ you say.

Yoongi doesn’t want to minimise it but he doubts the man you put away was completely innocent.

‘I read your notebooks,’ he says. ‘Who’s Jeon Bogyeol?’

There had been twelve murders before the arrest. All women in their late twenties to mid thirties, all living alone.

They’d all lived in the same part of Seoul, but apart from that there was nothing to link them that he could find.

You look at him warily. ‘He was a night watchman at the apartments of seven of the women.’

Yoongi waits.

‘We cross-referenced staff at all the addresses, and his name kept coming up. Like Jang Daeseong.’

You flinch at the name of the man convicted of the murders, as though it didn’t fall from your own lips.

You keep talking, though, your voice never faltering. ‘We never found any links between Jeon Bogyeol and the other five women.’

‘Did he have a history?’ Yoongi asks. He’s looking out the window at the first rays of sunrise, muted orange through the rain. His shoulder aches, an old injury he doesn’t think about except when he’s tired, and cold.

‘There was a neighbour,’ you say. You’re chewing on your bottom lip, a tell Yoongi’s noticed for the first time tonight.

‘She called the police once saying she’d seen Bogyeol taking a woman into his apartment against her will.’

You’re frowning. ‘The beat cops who responded to the call out said there was no sign of anyone else in his apartment. The neighbour moved away.’

‘Moved away?’ Yoongi asks, and you glance at him, understanding the sharpness in his tone.

‘I was going to look into it when the Chief shut us down,’ you say. It’s stated simply, like a fact, no sign of defensiveness.

Yoongi offers you more coffee from his flask.

‘Where’s Bogyeol now?’

‘When the new letter came in I looked him up,’ you say. The steam rising from your cup obscures part of your expression for a moment, but Yoongi can hear the tremor in your voice.

‘He’s less than fifty miles east of here.’

Dawn’s breaking, the rain’s finally starting to peter out, but Yoongi’s chilled anyway.

***

The morning sun is high in the sky by the time Yoongi and you finish interviewing the neighbours and the new victim’s friends and family.

Yoongi’s phone rings. It’s Namjoon.

‘Can you talk?’ Namjoon asks.

Yoongi mouths ‘Namjoon’ in response to your inquiring expression, puts some distance between you and him.

‘Yeah,’ he answers.

‘The post-mortem results are back, and the preliminary tox screen is negative. The ME’s put the cause of death as exsanguination.’

Yoongi processes this. ‘It’s the same MO as the previous Seoul reaper victims,’ he says.

Namjoon sighs. ‘Has anything new come out of your interviews?’

‘No,’ Yoongi says. The victim had been well-liked, none of the neighbours had seen or heard anything, and on the surface of it there were no conflicts he could see. Her boyfriend of two years had been away on a work trip, his location confirmed around the window of the crime.

Yoongi’s looking at you as you wait against the car, and when your name comes out of Namjoon’s mouth he’s already got an inkling of what Namjoon wants to know.

‘I reviewed the case,’ Namjoon says. ‘There are no obvious flaws or errors in their investigation.’

Yoongi grunts. ‘There was a lead that they didn’t follow up on.’

He fills Namjoon in.

‘I’ll follow it up.’

Namjoon says, thoughtfully, ‘I wonder where her partner’s working now.’

Yoongi’s surprised Namjoon doesn’t already know, to be honest, he’s always two steps ahead of Yoongi.

He flicks his gaze to you again. You’re still waiting against the car, and there’s a loneliness to your posture, a fatigued downturn to your mouth that makes him say, ‘Hey Joon, I’ll call you back, ok?’

He ends the call, unlocks the car.

‘We should get back and compare notes,’ Yoongi says. His voice has dropped the way it does when he’s tired, and shit, he is tired. He hasn’t slept well for a while.

‘Let me drive,’ you offer. You take his keys, and your fingers brush his for an instant.

The contact, brief though it is, makes Yoongi’s skin tingle.

He wonders if you notice his reaction, but you’re already sliding in, adjusting the seat, starting up the car.

***

Yoongi wakes when you’re parking the car, sits up, a little embarrassed.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says, looking to gauge your reaction.

‘Don’t be,’ you reply. ‘I would have done the same if you’d driven.’

There’s a hint of mischief in the curve of your half-smile.

‘You mumble in your sleep.’

Yoongi rubs a hand over his face. ‘What’d I say?’

‘I couldn’t make out any words,’ you tell him, but there’s a twinkle in your eye that makes him wonder if that’s really true.

Mara is the only person who’s shared his bed in recent years, and she’d never mentioned anything.

You swipe your ID to get into the station, hit the lifts.

In the dire grey lighting you look almost as tired as he does.

‘Coffee?’ Yoongi offers, when you pass the vending machine on the way to the office.

‘Yeah,’ you say. You’re on your phone, frowning over a text.

Yoongi passes you a cup.

‘Problem?’ he asks.

‘Kiho,’ you say. You look at him. ‘My old partner. He wants to meet up.’

‘It’d be useful to talk through the case with him,’ Yoongi agrees.

Your expression is difficult to read. ‘He’s in a retreat a couple hours drive from here. He took time off after we closed the case.’

Yoongi gulps his coffee. ‘There isn’t anything else we can do here anyway, we’re waiting on leads.’

He reaches out his hand for the car keys. ‘I can drive.’

***

The retreat Kiho is staying in is set amongst the foothills of a mountain, rolling grounds all around, a view of the cliffs overlooking the sea.

It seems to Yoongi like a place only the very rich or the very damaged would live.

Unless you get better pay packets in Seoul he’s apprehensive about meeting Kiho.

You sign in at the front desk, the receptionist greets you warmly, like she’s met you a few times before.

You lead Yoongi through a huge lounge, through open patio doors and into a green. Yoongi’s looking around at the residents, scanning the area the way he does automatically whenever he’s in an unfamiliar place.

You’re waving a hand, and then you’re embracing a tall man tightly. Neither of you say anything but Yoongi can see the way your shoulders slump, like the tension’s draining out of you.

It’s only when the tall man looks up at Yoongi inquiringly that Yoongi notices the long scar running along his neck. Tracing the path of his jugular, vertical rather than horizontal.

Kiho extends a hand.

‘So you’re going to get our guy,’ he says.

Yoongi doesn’t know what to say to that.

‘We’re going to get him,’ he says, finally.

Kiho turns to you. ‘You haven’t told him,’ he says to you.

You’re looking at Yoongi.

‘We can tell him now.’

***

‘I started getting notes after Jang Daeseong was convicted,’ you say. You’re sitting in a gazebo with Yoongi and Kiho, mugs of coffee in front of you.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow.

You flick your eyes to his, then look away, unlock your phone.

Yoongi takes your phone, scrolls through a gallery of pictures.

Lined paper, handwriting he’s seen before.

Yoongi reads through the content, then returns your phone to you.

‘The originals are with forensics,’ you tell him. ‘The paper and ink are generic, impossible to trace. There’s no trace of DNA, not so much as a partial print.’

‘The notes stopped coming last month,’ you say. ‘Right around the time I moved.’

Kiho’s scratching his neck absently, Yoongi catches how your gaze drops to his scar.

The length of it’s longer than a stab wound, he thinks the surgeons might have had to extend the scar to repair the vessels beneath.

You turn to Yoongi.

‘We have to stop him,’ you say. ‘Use me to lure him out.’

‘He nearly killed me,’ Kiho says. His expression is sober, his tone flat.

He stops there, but Yoongi can hear his next words, loud and clear.

What’s he going to do to you?

‘We can’t let him keep going like this,’ you say, very gently.

Kiho meets Yoongi’s gaze.

Yoongi doesn’t falter.

‘He has to be stopped,’ he agrees.

***

The drive back to the police station goes quicker - there’s something about seeing your old partner that’s given you a bump of energy.

Yoongi can practically feel the adrenaline fizzing in your blood, coming off you in waves.

He’s worried about the crash when the adrenaline ebbs.

He sure as fuck hopes you can cope with the lows better than he can.

He’d put in a call before you left the retreat, Namjoon’s fast tracking a last known address on the neighbour of Jeon Bogyeol who’d moved away.

You’re typing an address into the satnav yourself, face drawn, eyes serious.

Yoongi doesn’t have to ask whose address it is.

‘Are you sure you’re up to this?’ he asks.

His voice is as neutral as he can make it but he already knows that you’ve made your decision.

It’s written all over you, in the way your shoulders are squared, in the tilt of your chin, in the way your hands are tensed into fists in your lap.

‘I need to see this through, Yoongi,’ you say.

Yoongi takes a moment.

‘What happened to Kiho?’ he asks.

‘He didn’t see who it was,’ you answer. Your eyes are fixed in front of you, jaw tensed.

‘He was heading home in between shifts and he got jumped in the car park under his apartment. If he hadn’t been found by the car park attendant —‘ you voice trails off, and you shiver.

‘He was lucky the car park attendant called for help right away. That his next door neighbour, fresh off a shift in the trauma department, arrived home when she did and was there to take over. That he lives five minutes on blue lights away from the best trauma centre in Seoul.’

You look at Yoongi. ‘Kiho’s damned lucky to be alive.’

‘It’s a different injury from the reaper’s usual MO,’ Yoongi says slowly.

You nod. ‘He was toying with us.’

‘You said you received notes from the Reaper,’ Yoongi says. He’s watching you carefully in the rearview. ‘What did they say?’

Your lips press together in a line, but your voice is steady when you answer.

‘He said he’d been watching me, and that he was coming for me. That I’d be his final kill.’

***

The address you’ve put in for Jeon Bogyeol is a house in a run down suburban neighbourhood, the type of place Yoongi grew up.

The houses are haphazardly arranged, like a careless scatter on a Monopoly board, connected by a warren of roads too narrow for more than one car to pass.

Yoongi can see you tensing up the closer you get to your destination, and after he parks and switches off the engine, he places his hand on your arm.

Your eyes are expressive, more so than your voice.

‘We haven’t got grounds yet for an arrest warrant,’ you say, flat.

‘We’re working the case,’ Yoongi replies. ‘And if it’s right, we’ll work it until it’s airtight.’

Your response is to stare at him a moment, then to push open the car door.

Yoongi notices that you’ve unzipped your jacket, making your holstered gun more visible.

His own gun presses against his hip, the weight of it reminding him that although he’s only drawn it a handful of times, each time has been with intent.

He sure as fuck hopes neither of you will have reason to draw your gun today.

***

The address is little more than a shack, a rickety door that looks like it’ll give under a strong kick, a boarded up window that’s visibly cracked.

Yoongi knocks, identifies you both.

Follows procedure because he’s determined to get it all right this time.

Get the monster locked up where he belongs.

You don’t have grounds to break down the door, at least not until you go round to the back and see the pink tricycle upended in the dirt, streamers splayed tendrils of pink and white.

There isn’t much that sends Yoongi into the grey as much as the suggestion that a child might be involved.

He doesn’t really recall looking at you to confirm, just knows that one minute he’s outside in the chill and the next he’s inside the shack, gun drawn, the metallic tang of blood in the back of his throat.

There’s nowhere to hide in the empty shack, Jeon Bogyeol is gone.

You do a cursory search but both of you know you aren’t going to find your answers here.

Then Yoongi must blank out, because the next thing he hears is your voice, firm, saying his name.

He’s panting, covered in sweat, back against a wall, your hands grabbing fistfuls of his jacket to keep him upright.

He blinks, and you snap into focus. There’s ringing in his ears.

Your mouth opens, and the ringing stops. He hears your voice.

‘Let’s go, Yoongi.’

He lets you lead him out, folds himself into the passenger seat of your car, notes distantly how you put your hand on the top of the doorframe like you’re worried he’s going to bang his head.

You start the engine and then you drive, and Yoongi’s grateful that you don’t say anything at all, don’t ask for an explanation of why a fucking tricycle sent him into a tailspin.

Yoongi looks down in his lap because he’s not ready to see if you’re looking at him differently now that you’ve seen him wig out.

You put the radio on after a few minutes, stop at a drive thru after an hour.

It’s only when you hand him a coffee, silently, that he’s moved to speak.

He clears his throat, and you’re the one who speaks, still looking straight ahead, out the windscreen.

‘You don’t have to tell me. I mean, I’ll listen if you do, but you don’t have to.’

Yoongi chews on that a moment.

‘Three years ago I worked what we thought was a murder in Busan. It turned out to be an abduction.’

Yoongi laughs. There’s no humour in it.

‘We found her. She was still warm. If we’d been ten minutes quicker at figuring it out, if her fucking dad had told us about the business deal he had that had gone sour sooner, if I’d even just tried harder…’

His voice trails off.

He risks a glance at you.

You’re still not looking at him.

‘I can’t speak to whether you could have prevented it, Yoongi. All I know is that none of us come to work to do a bad job.’

Your hand lands on his forearm briefly.

‘Some days are just bad days at the office.’

It’s not the first time Yoongi’s heard it, but it’s the first time it’s been said to him with no judgement that he can hear.

***

When you get back to the precinct, Namjoon’s waiting.

He hands Yoongi another case file.

‘I got Jimin to follow up on those leads we talked about,’ Namjoon says, no preamble.

‘We visited Jeon Bogyeol’s last known address,’ you say. ‘There’s no one there now, but it hasn’t been long since he moved out.’

Namjoon says, ‘Keep me informed.’

He nods to the case file. ‘There’s some interesting information in there.’

As Namjoon walks off, you turn to Yoongi.

‘I’m going down to visit someone I know in forensics, see if they can check the house.’

Yoongi heads for your joint office.

There’s a cleaning cart parked just outside the door, which opens just as Yoongi reaches for the doorknob.

The cleaner apologises and bows politely.

Yoongi steps aside to let her pass.

‘You forgot this,’ he says, spotting the dusting cloth left on your desk.

He hands it to her and places the file on his desk.

Outside, it’s raining again.

***

Yoongi wakes with a jolt.

You’re perched on the edge of his desk.

‘You should go home, get some sleep.’

‘In the middle of an active murder investigation?’ Yoongi mumbles.

‘I’m one of the potential targets, remember?’ you say, grimacing. ‘He might come to us.’

At Yoongi’s expression, you say, ‘We’ve been doing nothing but following up leads since the last murder. The last investigation took months, almost a year. What are you going to do, not sleep until he’s caught?’

‘I don’t sleep much anyway,’ Yoongi says, but he knows you’re right.

‘I know you don’t,’ you reply. There’s an empathy in your tone that reminds him you’re a homicide detective too.

You exchange a look, and then you both speak at the same time.

‘I should go —‘

‘Do you like wontons?’ Yoongi blurts out.

You raise an eyebrow. ‘Is this like inviting me in for ramen?’

‘What?’ Yoongi splutters. ‘No, not like that. There’s this place I go. They have—-‘

‘Wontons, I get it,’ you say. You get up. ‘Yeah. Let’s go.’

***

It’s been a while since Yoongi shared a meal with someone else, the last person was Hoseok, who could go straight from a crime scene to a steakhouse without turning a hair.

You’re chasing a wonton around your plate, fatigue lining the corners of your mouth.

Yoongi asks, ‘Where do you live?’

‘The other side of town,’ you tell him. ‘Near the financial district.’

‘Fancy,’ Yoongi muses.

‘More than I can afford,’ you say darkly. ‘If this case goes on for a while I’m going to need to move.’

You look up at him. ‘Where do you live?’

‘Close to here,’ Yoongi says.

‘Yeah?’

You put your chopsticks down. ‘I should —-‘

This time, Yoongi interrupts.

‘Do you want to come round for ramen?’

Your eyes meet, and there’s a beat of silence. Then a pulse of connection that sends heat through Yoongi’s veins.

Your knee brushes his under the table.

‘Yeah,’ you answer, deliberate. ‘Fuck, yeah.’

***

Yoongi’s always hated the preamble to a hookup, in his line of work uncertainty is a thing to be avoided.

You work the case until you get an explanation no reasonable person would doubt.

He finds himself waiting, though, now that you’re standing in his apartment.

You’re looking around, and he wonders if his existence seems as lonely on the outside as it feels on the inside.

He’s wondering if you’ve changed your mind, if you really did think he meant ramen, when you reach out and grasp the front of his shirt.

Slip the tips of your fingers just under, hold the placket as you use your other hand to unbutton. Start at his throat, work your way down, slowly.

His skin prickles under the warmth of your fingers.

You lean forward and press a kiss to the base of his neck.

Yoongi reaches up, slides a hand around the nape of your neck, and you tilt your face to his.

Close up, you’re soft.

Yoongi traces your bottom lip with his thumb, and your lips part.

You don’t say anything, though, and that’s ok, because Yoongi thinks you’re as talked out as he is.

It’s been a hell of a fucking day.

You’re kissing his neck again, instead of his mouth, and that’s ok, because this isn’t love, it’s comfort.

A human connection in a day filled with monsters.

Yoongi sighs as your hands slip over his bare chest, round to his back.

He helps you lift your top over your head, admires your breasts, nipples pressing against the fabric of your bra.

He cups the weight of them in his hands, and you moan.

Yoongi’s cock is filling out, and you’re undoing his belt like you want to see for yourself.

You drop to your knees in front of him, press your mouth onto the length of him over his boxer briefs, sigh with pleasure.

‘Not too much,’ Yoongi warns, ‘not if you want me to fuck you.’

You look up at him, hair mussed, a smile curving your lips.

You tug his boxer briefs down, and Yoongi curls a hand around himself so as not to hit you in the face.

‘Just let me —‘

You open your mouth to take him in, and Yoongi groans at the feel of your warmth.

When did he last —

His crown nudges the back of your throat, and you swallow, and he loses his train of thought.

He grabs your shoulder, tugs you up, kisses the smear of his own stickiness at the corner of your mouth.

The light slanting in through the window is hues of gold and orange, filling in the hollows of your face, outlining the curves of your body.

Yoongi has to stop looking at you because he doesn’t want to cry at how much he’s missed being close to someone like this.

‘Where do you want me?’ he asks, voice taut.

‘Anywhere,’ you say. ‘Just turn these fucking lights out.’

***

In the dark, Yoongi’s most enraptured by the warmth of you.

Your skin is smooth, so soft under his hands as he wraps his fingers around the curve of your hips.

His cock glides in and out of the heat between your legs, and your moans are beautiful but what really gets him are the hitches in your breathing as he moves.

He turns you over, onto your back, and you pull him to you. Your mouth opens on his shoulder in what would be a kiss if you weren’t biting down. Your tongue flicks over his bruised skin, an apology.

You haven’t spoken to each other in words in a while but Yoongi doesn’t think either of you need words right now.

At least he doesn’t.

You’re tightening around his cock now, your cries quickening until you gasp his name in a tone that makes him grunt and his hips jerk, taking him deep as he can go.

Even in his pleasure he makes sure not to crush you as he collapses next to you.

Then you’re up, walking over to the window, pulling up the sash, lighting a cigarette without asking if he’s ok with it.

Yoongi admires the outline of your profile against the glass.

‘I needed that,’ you say, taking a drag, hunching a little to blow smoke out of his window.

‘Me too,’ Yoongi says, honestly.

He ties off the condom, gets up to toss it in the trash on top of yesterday’s takeout.

Pours you a glass of water on his way back to bed.

He half expects you to be dressed, and you are, but in his clothes, not your own, an old t-shirt he’d tossed on the chair by the bed yesterday morning before he left for work.

He can’t see your face clearly in the dark. It makes it easy to find his voice.

‘You should stay,’ he says. ‘We can get coffee in the morning.’

You’re quiet. ‘I want to.’

Yoongi climbs into bed, and after a moment you slide in next to him.

Your bodies aren’t touching at all, but somehow having you there with him is enough.

Yoongi means to check on you, but he’s asleep so quickly he doesn’t get a chance to.

***

There’s a basketball hoop set into the wall in the back end of the station, a concrete square with a chain-link fence.

The building opposite is a block of offices, as is the building next to it.

Yoongi makes the shot, and you grab the ball on its first bounce.

You say, ‘Forensics got nothing from Jeon Bogyeol’s shack. He bleached the shit out of the place before he left.’

Yoongi grunts, watches you point and shoot.

He’d read through the file Namjoon gave him on the neighbour - it’s incomplete but she was last seen alive twelve weeks ago in a coastal town.

There’s something niggling at the back of his brain, he’d suggested shooting hoops in the hopes that the activity might shake the thought loose so his conscious mind can make the connection.

His phone vibrates in his pocket.

Namjoon.

‘I’m going up to see Namjoon,’ he says. ‘You coming?’

‘I’ll stay here for a bit,’ you say. ‘I’ll be up in a sec.’

Yoongi shrugs, lets himself back in.

Takes the stairs up to Namjoon’s office on the third floor.

There’s a cleaning cart parked next to the staff kitchen as he rounds the corner.

Yoongi’s about to knock on Namjoon’s door when his scattered thoughts crystallise.

The case file Namjoon had given him had a grainy photo of Jeon Bogyeol’s neighbour, the one who’d reported him and then disappeared.

He’s seen her face before, and recently.

Coming out of your office.

‘Fuck,’ he swears.

He grabs his phone out of his pocket, dials your number.

Your phone rings, and rings.

Yoongi takes off, down the stairs, back the way he came.

By the time he bursts out of the back door of the station, gun drawn, his heart’s thumping triple speed, but his hand is steady as he aims it at the man with a knife standing over you.

His finger goes from trigger guard to trigger.

‘Fucking drop it,’ Yoongi warns.

He doesn’t, so Yoongi shoots.

***

Jeon Bogyeol’s neighbour who had reported him was called Seo Hyerin.

She was in her early forties, an ex-teacher who he’d coerced into helping him by turning up at her new place even after she’d moved to get away from him.

She’d been too scared to disobey him, but in forcing her to help him, Jeon Bogyeol had given her access to enough information to clinch the case against him.

Once she’d found out he’d been shot and was likely to go straight from hospital to prison, she’d shared all that information with Yoongi and you.

The pieces fell into place so easily there was no need to make any of it fit.

And now Yoongi’s sitting in the kitchen of your apartment, watching as you pack things up.

He’d been right. Your place was fancy.

You were being transferred back to Seoul to finish up, see things through with the case.

He realises you’re looking at him.

‘My new place is a couple hours drive from here,’ you say.

‘Yeah?’ Yoongi says, like he hadn’t already looked it up.

He’d also looked up timed automated cat food dispensers, just because it was one thing to have a neighbour drop in and feed Kenzo if he’s stuck with a case occasionally, but it’s another thing if he’s regularly going to be driving down to see you.

If he’s regularly going to be spending the night away.

It’s uncharacteristic, for him, but he’s hopeful.

‘I slept pretty well that time,’ you say, looking down into your box.

You look up at him, and the curve of your lips makes Yoongi think to himself that he’d like to kiss you, sometime.

‘In your apartment,’ you clarify, like he wouldn’t already know.

‘I make good ramen,’ Yoongi says. ‘I can make it again for you, you know.’

You laugh, and the sound makes Yoongi feel warm.

He realises that he’s smiling.

Fuck, it’s been a while.

#bts fanfiction #bts smut #yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #yoongi fic #yoongi smut

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gyupinkys · 4 months

Text

LIKE CRAZY

PARK SEONGHWA X READER

WC: 7.4K

WARNINGS: MURDER, YANDERE, VIOLENCE, DOMESTIC ABUSE, GORE, KIDNAPPING, DRUGGING, SMUT, power imbalance, questionable morals, unprotected sex, rough sex, heavy talks of breeding, creampie, oral, guided masturbation, possessiveness, very inaccurate medical terms idk what i'm talking about, lots of dirty talk, seonghwa is actually crazy...

Synopsis: Park Seonghwa, 25, charged with 10 Counts of second degree murder, acquitted of all charges by reason of insanity. You find his story hard to believe, seeing through his lies. As a new psychiatrist you're not sure you're ready for the anomaly you're tasked to treat

A/N: Thank you guys so much for all the support!!! I love this fic <3

You love your job, you really do but moments like this make you question why you’re here. As you stand in the bathroom of your office cleaning the mashed potatoes your patient threw at you in a manic rage off your face, you question why you do this. As a psychiatrist you pride yourself in your patience, but you can't help but stomp your foot in a mini tantrum. You spent so long doing your makeup this morning and it’s all going to waste. You throw the final wipe in the trash and stare at your reflection. The bags under your eyes are much more prominent than a few days ago. You’ve been up all night trying to prepare yourself for your new patient coming today. Park Seonghwa, 25, acquitted of all charges by reason of insanity. He claims a “demon” took over his body, subsequently leading him to murdering 15 people across a 1 month killing spree. You don’t buy it. Something about this guy is off and the state made it your job to find out why. Your phone ringing snaps you out of your thoughts.

“Doctor L/N, the patient has arrived, we are transporting him to his room.”

“I’ll be right there.”

You take a deep breath and walk across the hospital to his room. You expect to hear shuffling and yelling but the room is eerily quiet. The guards in front of the door step aside and let you into the room, keeping a close eye on Seonghwa.

“Hello Mr.Park, I’m Dr. Y/N L/N, and I will be treating you for your stay here.” you smile at him., surprised by his appearance.

“Hello, Y/N.” he says, staring up at you from his place on his bed.

His curly black hair and plump lips suit him so well.

“I hope you adjust well, we’ve been anticipating your arrival. Breakfast begins at 8, so you are expected to be up and ready before then. Lunch is at 2 and dinner is at 7. Your therapy time with me is at 4 Mondays, Wednesday’s, and Fridays. Sounds good?”

“Sounds great” he says with a smile, showcasing his pearly white teeth.

“I look forward to working with you. My job is to take care of you and I promise to do that.” you smile.

You take a second to look at him, watching the dead look in his eyes. His smile says one thing but his eyes say another. With one last smile you leave the room, almost certain he’ll be causing problems before the night is over.

_________________________

You come in the next morning and check in with the nurses. Surprisingly there were no issues from Seonghwa, he even took his medication with no complaints. Maybe you had the wrong idea about him. You meet with several of your other patients, thankfully avoiding potatoes in your face again. It's 3pm when you take a break, looking outside your office window. You see him sitting at the edge of the courtyard, eyes fixed up at the sky. Four guards surround him out of precaution, but he seems completely unphased, eyes staring at the clear blue sky. For someone capable of such evil things he’s beautiful. His curly hair has grown quite long during his time in prison awaiting his trial. His eyes are wide and bright holding so many secrets. As if he can feel your eyes on him he looks up, directly into your office window somehow making eye contact with you. Your eyes widen and you quickly look away, pretending you weren't staring at him. It’s not uncommon for new patients to stick to themselves, often untrusting of the new environment. You can only hope Seonghwa will begin to trust you so you can treat him, if not you’re not sure what his future might hold.

_________________________

He is brought to your office at 4 on the dot, accompanied by the four guards assigned to him. He looks rather scared, the new environment keeping him on his toes. You welcome him with a wide smile that he doesn't return, instead staring straight at your shoes.

“Hello, Seonghwa.”

“Hi.” he responds quietly, reminding you of a scared child. You find it in your heart to feel sorry for him.

“How are you adjusting?”

He shrugs in response, eyes still on the floor.

“Can you look at me?”

He shakes his head no.

“Ok, that's fine. I know it’s scary here, I’d also hate to be constantly monitored, but we just want to make sure you’re safe.”

He keeps quiet so you continue.

“Tell me, do you like the food here?”

No response.

“I’ve only tried some of the patient food, well besides when it gets thrown at me. Last week Sandy with the weird haircut threw her potatoes right in my face, I looked like Ms.Doubtfire in that one scene.” you say with a laugh, gauging his reaction. He smirks but remains silent, you decide it might be best if you keep talking in hopes of making him comfortable.

“I’ve only been working here for about 5 months. I can’t say I’m settled completely. Some patients don’t seem to like me very much, hence the mashed potatoes. But I don’t let that discourage me, I mean if I was in their shoes I wouldn’t want some random lady talking my ear off. Well, I guess that’s what I’m doing now, I’ll shut up.”

He looks up at you with a wide smile, showcasing his perfect teeth. “Don’t stop," he says gently.

“I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into here, I can talk for hours.” you say with a light laugh.

His eyes widen a bit, he looks at you as if he’s psychoanalyzing you, the roles seemingly reversed. You squirm under his intense stare, deciding to just start talking.

“How about this? If I tell you one thing about me, you tell me one thing about you?”

“Deal.” he says much quicker than you anticipate making you laugh. You hear his breath hitch, concerned you did something wrong.

“Are you ok?”

“I’m fine. Start talking.”

“Ok, Ok. Hmmmm, Oh how about this, I haven’t finished paying off my student debt.”

“I could pay it off,” he says seriously.

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m sure that violates many rules.”

“I’m not one to worry about rules.” he says with a smile, making your own fall. He quickly reacts, trying to soothe the situation. “That was a joke, I’m joking.”

“Noted.” you say hesitantly. “Your turn.”

“I miss my cat.” he says, sadly.

“You have a cat?” you ask in surprise. “I love cats, I have two.”

“Can I see?” he asks, scooching to the front of his seat, making the guards jump hold him back.

“You guys can relax.” you say and they let go of him.

You grab your phone from your desk, missing the way his eyes drop to your ass.

“They're named Brad and Chad. And yes I know those are weird names for cats.” you show him the pictures of your cats, seeing his body visibly relax.

“What’s your cat's name?”

“Matz.”

“Boy or girl?”

“Girl. I think my friend Hongjoong has her but I’m not sure.”

“If you give me his last name I can try to find out for you.” you say with a smile.

He leans forward again in excitement. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course, I know It’ll give you peace of mind.”

“Kim, his last name is Kim.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Kim Hongjoong has Matz and says you raised a very disrespectful cat.” you say and slide into the chair across from him in the cafeteria.

He looks a bit shocked at your presence but he gives you a wide smile when he registers what you said.

“She was born like that, I had no part in her sassiness.” he laughs.

“Did he say anything else?”

“He said, “Don't forget to look at the sky.” and stopped responding after that so do with it as you will.”

“I really appreciate it.” he says and grabs your hand, making the security guards restrain him.

“It’s ok, let him go.” you sigh, understanding the guard’s worry, but also feeling sympathetic for Seonghwa.

“I’ll see you around, Seonghwa.”

“Call me Hwa.” he smiles.

_________________________

Seonghwa has made great progress, now only being followed around by two guards as opposed to four. He’s been much more responsive with you and willing to let you into his mind, but he refuses to talk about the murders. Whenever you attempt to touch on the subject he locks up and asks to leave. You think he needs more time to accept and confront his past. You know prying too much will only erase his progress. You’ve learned so much about him and he’s learned so much about you. He’s so attentive to every word you speak, constantly bringing up small details you forgot you said. You’d be lying if you said it wasn't sweet. Today you decided to try group therapy with him, maybe if he sees someone else sharing he’d be inclined to share as well. You’re also hoping he’s able to make a friend here, since he expressed to you how lonely he’s been feeling. You can see the shock on his face when he walks into your office and see’s San sitting on the couch. He freezes in the threshold of your office, his face morphing into something you’ve never seen before.

“Who is this?” he asks with venom.

“Hwa, this is San, he’ll be joining us today.”

“Why?”

“I think it’ll be a good change of pace. Now come on in and sit down.”

He slowly walks in, eyes never leaving San.

“So, I was thinking of doing a joint session today. I think you two can be great friends and what better place to facilitate this friendship than here?”

“I’d rather be your friend, or more than friends if you’re interested.” San says with a smirk.

“San, don’t start.”

“If you show me your tits I’ll stop.”

“I will write you up.” you deadpan.

He holds his hands up in defeat as you look over to Seonghwa. He’s sitting in his chair with a hard face and tense body. You want him to feel comfortable, understanding why he’s nervous.

“Hwa, San also loves cats. Why don’t you tell him about Matz?”

“I have a cat named Matz” he whispers, eyes never leaving you.

“I used to have a cat but it died. I was thinking of getting a new one.” San says with a wide smile.

“What kind of cat is your favorite?” Seonghwa asks, seemingly interested.

“I like cats that are nice and wet, even better if they're tight.” he says with a wide smile, showing off his dimples. “Can I take a look at your cat, Doctor?”

Before you can respond San’s on the floor, face being beaten in by Seonghwa.

“HOW ABOUT YOU TREAT HER WITH SOME FUCKING RESPECT.” he yells as his fist fly into San’s jaw. As the guards peel him off San and sedate him he’s staring straight at you, tears in his eyes.

“I can’t sit here and let him talk to you like that.” he slurs as the sedative takes over his body.

“Thank you, Hwa.” is the last thing he hears before everything fades to black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You did a real number on San.” you say with an awkward laugh at your next session, trying to make him comfortable. He’s back with four guards after he broke San’s jaw two weeks ago. He was placed in a higher security ward inorder to avoid more altercations.

“He deserved it.” he whispers with an eye roll.

“Maybe, but we don’t have to solve our problems with violence.”

“I do.”

“Well, If I upset you would you beat the shit out of me?” you ask, trying to prove your point but hoping he will say no.

He leans forward and looks directly into your eyes. “Y/N I will never hurt you. I swear on my life.”

“That's good to hear” you say with a laugh.

“Ok, let's begin. I want you to write three things you like here and three things you dislike. I want you to start seeing the good in the bad.”

“Not much to love in this shit hole.” he grumbles.

“Hey, At least the chicken tenders they serve on wednesdays are good.” you joke.

You hand him a piece of paper and a pen, your fingers brushing making you clear your throat.

“Ok, go ahead.”

“You do it too.” he says with a smirk.

“How about I just write things I do like? ”

“Deal”

You write three things you like:

Chicken tenders

The sunlight

Seonghwa

“Ok, you share first.”

He clears his throat.

“I like my doctor, I like the girl I meet on Monday’s, Wednesday, and Fridays, and I like Y/N.”

Your eyes widen and you can’t help but smile, feeling your cheeks tingle. “Well that's definitely something.” you say with a laugh watching his eyes light up.

You read out your list and watch his smile widen when he hears his name.

“Don’t let it go to your head.” you say with an eye roll.

“Oh baby, it already did.”

Your heart stops at the pet name, willing yourself to remain professional. He’s a goddamn serial killer you internally yell.

“Ok, now read the things you don’t like.”

“I don’t like Tuesdays and Thursdays, I don’t like San, and I don’t like your boyfriend.”

You choke on the sip of water you were taking.

“How do you know I have a boyfriend?”

“Your reaction just told me.” he says and you can see him becoming upset.

“I don’t have a boyfriend, and frankly it’s none of your business.” you say, slightly annoyed.

He gives you a look you’re never seen before. You hate to think it but he genuinely looks insane. You’re suddenly thankful for the guards in the room.

“I think that’s enough for today.” you say. the guards picking him up and dragging him out of the room, his eyes never leaving yours.

You weren’t lying, you don’t have a boyfriend. Well, that’s because he doesn’t want you. All Chris wants from you is sex, claiming he’s “too young for a relationship”

You wish you were strong enough to stick up for yourself but that’s exactly how he likes you, weak.

As you sit at your desk you're puzzled by Seonghwa’s reaction. Sure, you've had patients crush on you in the past but they've never reacted like that when they found out about your partner. He looked almost… murderous? You write this in his file, concerned for both your safety and his. Maybe someone else should get assigned to him? No, that’ll only aggravate him more. You sigh, at a loss about this situation.

_________________________

When you enter your office you see an envelope on the floor, presumably slid under your door. You pick it up and see it’s addressed to you.

You open it and pull out a letter.

“My dear Y/N,

I don’t know what I was thinking yesterday. I guess I got jealous, knowing I can’t have you in the ways he has you. I can tell you guys aren’t in love. You deserve to be loved, in every sense of the word. I wish we met in different circumstances, I’d do anything to have you, to hold you, to love you. I’m sorry if I scared you. You’ve been nothing but perfect for me and I’ve done nothing but give you headaches. I’ll be better for you, I promise.

-Hwa”

Your heart softens. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for you. You choose to ignore the parts where he confesses his love for you. That just complicates things. You decide to pay him a visit in his room.

You walk to the other side of the hospital, rehearsing what you're going to say to him. You stop in your tracks outside his door, hearing moans and groans coming from the other side. Is he ok? You press your ear to his door, only hearing more moans and whimpers. As you’re about to open it you hear him moan out your name. Oh. It doesn't take a genius to guess what he’s doing. It would be a lie if you said you weren't imagining his face right now. He’s already so pretty, he must look even better right before he comes. You bite the bullet and knock on his door.

“Hwa, can I come in?”

You hear shuffling and a meek “Come in.”

You open the door and pause. You expected him to stop but he’s sitting up on his bed with his back against the wall, cock in his hand. Your eyes stray from his face to his dick, hard and long.

“Am I interrupting something?”

“No.”

“I’ll come back later.”

“No.” he yells, making you stop in your tracks.

“Turn around.”

As if you were in a trance you turn around, eyes trained on his large hands wrapped around himself.

“Can you come help me? It hurts so bad.” he whispers. “You’re my doctor aren’t you?” he smirks.

“No, this is wrong.”

“Then why are you still here? Why are your eyes on my cock rather than my face?”

“I-”

“Y/N, all I can think of when I close my eyes is you.” he says as he strokes his cock, looking into your eyes. “Your pretty eyes, your lips, your perfect fucking smile. You make it so hard to focus. I gotta come back here after every session to stroke my cock to you, I can’t help myself.”

You’re frozen in place, unsure if you’re even breathing. “Come wrap your hand around my cock, baby. Please?”

Your legs move before you can think this through, hesitantly wrapping your hand around him. He’s so big in your hands, you can only imagine how perfect he’d feel inside you.

“I shouldn't be doing this.” you whisper to him.

He wraps his hand around yours and guides you to begin stroking him, moaning at the sensation. “You aren’t doing anything wrong, just helping your patient.”

His breathing picks up as precum leaks from his tip onto your hand. “Baby, can I tell y-you something?”

“Yea.”

“I really wish it was your pretty little pussy wrapped around me right now.” he groans. “I’d treat you better than you could imagine, I’d have you addicted to this dick.”

“Hwa”

“Shh, keep going. You're making me feel so good, beautiful.” he breathes out, throbbing in your hand.

“Do you do this to your other patients? Or am I special.”

“You’re special, Hwa. You know that.”

“Do you do this for that ungrateful bastard you call a boyfriend?”

You freeze, but he continues.

“I know you don’t. If he treated you how you deserved you wouldn’t be here with me. I’d make you a queen Y/N, you don’t even have to love me back.”

You look at him in the eye, he looks fucking insane but you can’t find it in you to care. You crash your lips into his, feeling him suck in a deep breath before returning the same ferocity. The kiss is deep and nasty, nothing but tongue and teeth. You grip him harder and begin pumping him faster, desperate to see his face when you come.

“I want you to come for me ok? I wanna see how pretty you look when you feel good.”

“Yes, yes, ok. I’m gonna come for you.”

You hear him let out one last whimper before he comes, his seed dripping down your hand. When he’s done you bring your hand up to his mouth, watching him lick his cum off your fingers. You feel yourself clench around nothing, but you know you’d have to handle your little issue at a later time.

“So good for me, Hwa.” you smile, giving him one last peck before getting up.

He’s laying on the bed, looking completely blissed out, a wide smile on his face.

“I got the letter by the way. I guess flattery has gotten you pretty far.”

_________________________

You arrive home later than expected, getting caught up in some paperwork and losing track of time. When you arrive at your apartment you see none other than Chris waiting outside.

“Where have you been?” he immediately spits, slurring his words, making you roll your eyes.

“Why are you here?” you sigh, unlocking your door.

“What? I can’t come see you now?” he says, going to hug you, but you push him away, smelling the alcohol on his breath.

“Thought you’d be more interested in seeing Irene.”

“Y/N, don’t be like that. You and I aren’t together.” he says, getting aggravated.

“Thank God.” you say under your breath, unsure where this confidence came from.

“Come again?”

“Nothing.”

“No. Fucking say it.” he says, getting in your face.

“Chris, just leave.”

“Youre fucking impossible, Y/N. I don’t know what you fucking want from me. You get mad when I fuck other bitches but you talk to me like this? You don’t deserve me.”

You can’t help but laugh, turning to walk into your bathroom, which makes him even more upset.

“Whats so fucking funny?” he yells, grabbing your wrist a little too tight.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” you spit, trying to pull your hand away, but unable to due to his tight grip.

“You’re hurting me.” you cry as he tightens his grip and pulls you towards him.

“Imagine how much you hurt me when you act like this? You’re a fucking bitch Y/N. Why are you acting like this? Are you fucking someone else is that it?” he’s getting angrier by the second, beginning to scare you.

“GET OFF OF ME.”

“ADMIT IT. YOU'RE WHORING YOURSELF OUT AREN’T YOU? “

You yank your hand from his grip, only to be greeted with a sharp slap across your face.

You look at him with wide eyes, shocked at his actions. He seems equally as shocked as he stares at his hand then you.

“Sweetheart, I’m-”

“Get out before I call the cops.”

He rushes out, spewing bullshit apologies in his drunken state, but you’re having none of it. As soon as he leaves you begin to cry, the reality of what happened hitting you. You look down at your wrist, seeing his hand imprinted on your skin. You cry more, wondering how you got to this point.

_________________________

You tried your best to cover the small mark on your face, but the bruise on your hand was a no go. You just hoped the sleeves of your lab coat would cover the mark. You see multiple patients today, trying to keep up your usual happy persona but most likely failing. San is the only one who asked if you were ok, saying he “knows ways to make

You feel better.” Maybe Seonghwa needs to beat him up one more time so he can learn his lesson. Speaking og Seonghwa, you are nervous to face him after your encounter yesterday. You violated so many rules, if he were to snitch on you not only would you lose your job, but your license. You take a deep breath as the guards bring him into your office, two instead of four now due to good behavior.

He takes a seat but you’re not sure what to say. He frowns at the unusual silence, immediately asking what's wrong.

“I’m fine, Hwa. Just having a shitty day.” you say while subconsciously rubbing your wrist, bringing attention to it. He shoots forward in his seat and grabs your arm, pulling back your sleeve and looking at your wrist. The guards immediately grab him, but you signal at them to stand down.

“Did he do that?” Seonghwa asked, venom dripping from his voice.

“He was drunk.”

“That's not an excuse.”

“I know.” you sigh.

“That bastard doesn't deserve you. I hope he fucking dies.” Seonghwa spits.

“Hwa, don’t say that.”

“I want to leave.”

You nod your head and the guards lead him back to his room. You decide to head home, hoping a night out with your friends will clear your mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seonghwa’s tells himself he’s doing this for you. Everything he does is for you. No one can lay a hand on his sweet girl and think they won't experience any consequences. He’ll be damned if this fucker lives another day. He watches Chris dance and kiss other women like nothings wrong, like he didn’t put his hands on you. Seonghwa can feel the rage flowing through his body, this is the feeling he gets right before he kills. He can’t wait to see the light leave Chris’ eyes tonight. He’s eternally grateful for Hongjoong finding this fucker for him, he knows he’ll avenge you tonight.

He waits for him near his car, watching him fumble with his keys.

“Excuse me.”

Chris turns around and sees Seonghwa standing next to the car parked behind his own.

“Yes?”

“I know this sounds weird, but I’m trying to dump my couch, but I can’t get it out of my apartment by myself. Can you help me?”

“Yea sure.”

Seonghwa couldn't help but smile, knowing what was about to happen. As soon as the pair enter Hongjoong’s old apartment, Seonghwa wastes no time and stabs Chris in the chest, watching him crumble to the floor.

“You think you can touch my dear, Y/N and get away with it? No one is going to hurt my girl.” he spits, rage consuming him.

Chris doesn’t get a chance to respond as Seonghwa plunges the knife into his chest, repeatedly, aiming for his heart.

“This is how my heart felt when I saw those bruises on her.” he spits, mutilating Chris’s body.

When his body is nothing more than a pile of flesh and blood, Seonghwa stands, changing out of his soiled clothes and exiting the apartment, leaving Chris’s body to rot.

He pushes through the crowds of the rowdy club, searching for you. He spots you dancing with your friends, looking carefree and happy, exactly as you should be. He smiles at the sight, falling more in love with you as the seconds pass. He wants to experience everything with you, he wants to marry you, have kids with you, die with you, and he will. He’ll make you his, he’ll fill you up with his seed and watch your body grow. He’ll keep you where no one can find you, make sure you’re his forever.

He watches you search for one of your other friends from your spot at the bar, hoping you’d make eye contact with him. When your eyes meet his heart stops. He watches your eyes widen, and confusion grow on your face. You rub your eyes to make sure you’re seeing correctly and when you open them again he’s gone.

He walks back to the asylum elated, happy he served you justice. He passes by the security who knows better to question him and the nurses who keep their heads down and mouths shut. There's nothing money can’t buy, and the hospital staff’s silence is definitely not one of them. He changes back into his patient attire and gets into bed as if nothing happened.

_________________________

You’re 100% losing your mind. Either that or Seonghwa was in the same club as you last night which is impossible. You've run through every scenario you could think of and you’ve concluded whatever you feel for him is becoming too strong. You’re considering transferring him to another doctor, the guilt you have from what happened two days ago is sitting on you. That was completely unprofessional and foolish, your risked so much because you’re too fucking horny. Not only that but you took advantage of him, you're in a position of power, you should've said no. You know you wouldn't be able to treat and diagnose him properly. But you also know he’d throw a fit if he gets assigned to a new doctor. This is all too much for you to handle.

Your thoughts are interrupted by someone barging into your office. You look up and see Seonghwa, eyes widening.

“Hwa? Why are you here?”

“I needed to see you.”

“Where are the guards?”

“Don’t worry about that.” he says and locks your office door, worrying you a bit.

“Seonghwa, you’ll get in trouble if they find out you’re here.”

“They won’t find out if you don’t tell.” he says with a smile, walking to your desk.

“Why did you need to see me?”

“I’m sorry for how I acted yesterday. It wasn’t my place to react like that, and I know you were probably already stressed, I shouldn’t have added to that.”

“It's ok, don’t worry.”

“No, it’s not Ok. I keep saying I'll treat you right but I haven't. Let me make it up to you.”

You smile at how much he cares when it should be the other way around.

“And how are you going to make it up?” you say with a light laugh.

“Let me eat you out.”

Your eyes widen.

“Hwa. What happened was a one time thing. We can’t keep doing this.”

“Why?

“You know why.”

“I won’t tell anyone. No one needs to know, Baby. I love you, why would I jeopardize you?” he says, getting on his knees next to your desk chair.

“What if someone sees?”

“I’ll take care of them. With the way I’m about to have you, no one but me gets to see you.”

Your breath quickens. No way you're actually contemplating this. You watch as he turns your chair towards him and places his hands on your thighs.

“What do you say, Sweet girl?”

You nod hesitantly. He smiles up at you spreading your legs and running his hands up your skirt. He flips it up and looks at your pink panties, sucking in a deep breath.

“Just like I imagined.”

He puts his legs on your shoulder and pulls your hips to his face, running his nose along your inner thigh. He’s breathing heavily, his grip on you tightening. He licks a long stipe up your slit over your panties, teasing you. Your hands fly to his soft curls, pulling him closer.

“Please don’t tease” you whisper.

He begins to kiss your cunt, practically making out with it. He’s so sloppy with it, soaking your already soaked panties more. He pulls off your panties with his teeth, shoving them in his pocket before pulling you flush to his lips. He goes straight for your clit, sucking harshly. He's moaning into your cunt, lapping at your pussy like it's the last he’lll ever eat.

“So good, Baby. You taste so fucking goof. The best I’ve ever had.”

He runs two fingers through you, wetting them before easing them inside.

“Fucking hell, you’re gonna be the death of me.”

You can only moan in response, trying to control your volume.

“Tell me how it feels.”

“It’s so good, Hwa. Feels so good.”

“Is it better than that fucker Chris?”

“Yes, so much better.” you moan out, not having enough brain power to question how he knows chris. All you can focus on is his soft tongue running through you and his fingers hitting all the spots you need.

Your back arches as you feel your orgasm coming. “Give it to me baby. I deserve it,I’ve been so good to you.” he speaks into your cunt, his fingers never stopping.

You look down into his wide eyes and see so much emotion in them. He’s so fucking pretty, just the thought that this is the man eating you out makes you let go. Grabbing his hair harshly and somehow pulling him closer as you soak his face. He keeps sucking and licking your clit, slowing the pace of his fingers. When it gets too much you yank his head back, out of breath.

“Fuck, Hwa. That definitely made it up to me.” you laugh, blissed out.

“I’m glad.” he laughs, licking his fingers clean before standing up and kissing you.

“I can make you feel even better.” he smiles, testing his luck.

“Nice try. Can I have my panties back?”

“No can do.” he smiles, kissing you one more time before backing up, helping you put your clothes back in place.

“I’ll see you four, Love.” he says with a wide smile.

“Actually, I need to cancel our session, something came up.” you say solemnly watching his smile drop. All the guilt from before it you once again. You can’t keep doing this. He’s you patient for fucks sake, you can’t fuck him. This is wrong on so many levels.

“So when am I going to see you instead?”

“I’ll let you know.” you say with a frown.

“Oh, Ok. Have a nice night, Y/N.”

“You too, Hwa.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seonghwa can feel something's off. He thought after he ate you out you’d realize you feel the same way about him. But he could tell it had the opposite effect. He tries to sleep but all that's on his mind is you. He looks at the clock on the wall, it's well past 4am, you should definitely be gone. He gets up and opens his door, seeing the guard on night duty fast asleep. He walks to your office and uses the master key he stole from the janitor to unlock the door. He walks over to your desk and scans the papers littering it. He sees a printed out email from your supervisor, listing reports made about you from other patients. Other patients claim you show him favoritism? He knows San was behind this. They claim patient reports you write for him are much more detailed and that's somehow proof of favoritism? You eating lunch with him is somehow inappropriate? He laughs at this, they really have no idea how inappropriate your relationship has gotten. He continues reading, Your supervisor claims he’s showing no improvement and has requested a new doctor for him. He can feel the anger coursing through his veins but he wills himself. He’ll be damned if they try to take you away from him. His months of planning will not go to waste. He’ll live out all his dreams with you, there's no way he won’t.

He walks out of your office, filled with rage. He can’t believe this. He can only imagine how crushed you are. He knows you love him, even if you don’t know it. He knows you’re probably at home distraught. He owes it to you to make sure you two remain together forever.

He goes back to his room, but he still can’t sleep. He stares at the ceiling, imagining your pretty face in an attempt to calm his spirit. He’s rudely interrupted by his door opening. He looks at the clock and sees it's somehow 8am. Time flies so fast when you're on his mind. In walks another doctor he’s seen around the hospital. There's no way this happened so quickly. He can’t believe this. He sees the man speaking to him but he’s not hearing anything besides the ringing in his ears.

“I want Y/N to be my doctor.”

“Unfortunately, she can’t. She hasn’t been making much progress with you. We're hoping a more experienced doctor like myself can help you more than she can.”

He looks at him blankly. He feels himself slipping away. His hands clench and reach under his pillow, grasping his knife as the doctor reads from his clipboard. He won’t let someone speak about you like this. He won’t let them take you away from him. He grabs the doctor's hair and slits his throat, sawing through the man's blood vessels until he falls limp. A guard runs in and attempts to wrestle the knife out of his hands but he overpowers him, plunging the knife into his chest repeatedly. Seonghwa’s fuled by blind rage, no one will stop him from avenging your honor. How dare they speak of you like this as he kills the fourth and final guard to come in. He hears alarms blaring in the distance and looks at the clock. It's 9:05 am, he can feel you on your way to him.

_________________________

The blaring of the alarms push you to run faster, entering the high security section of the hospital. The commotion from down the hall gets louder as you approach his room. You come to a halt as you see a stream of blood running down the hall, coming from beyond his door. A loud thud from inside his room breaks you from your trance, you push open the door, seeing the bodies of guards surrounding his bed.

“Hwa” you gasp, eyes trained on the battered bodies. “What did you do?” you breathe out, finally looking up at him.

He looks up at you from across the room, eyes wide and bloodshot.

“What did I do?” He laughs maniacally. “Y/N, This is your fault. I did this because of you.” he says as he begins to approach you.

“THEY TRIED TO KEEP ME FROM YOU!” He yells. “You were supposed to take care of me. YOU PROMISED!” He traps you against the wall next to the door. “Isn’t that your job? Nurse me back to my right state of mind? Figure out what's wrong with me? But you didn’t do that. No,no, no you just made me fall in love with you, you made me want you! So don’t act like this is my fault.” he says as he lightly drags the knife across your throat.

“No ones going to keep me away from you, my love.” he whispers into your ear. He leans over and locks the door before looking back at you.

“Do you think I’m going to hurt you?”

“No.” you answer with full confidence.

He smiles at you, but it's not the same smile your Seonghwa gives you. You don’t know who this is.

"I want my Hwa back, I don;t like you like this.”

“I am your Hwa, Baby. I did this for you Y/N. Don’t you see how much I love you?” he says, dropping the knife and kissing down your neck.

“I know, Hwa.” you sigh heavily, feeling his cock hardening against your stomach.

“Say you love me too. I know you do.”

Do you love him? Can you love someone who’d do this? The longer you stay quiet the more upset he gets. “It's ok baby. I’ll love you enough for the both of us.” he sighs. “One day you’ll realize how much you love me.”

He runs his hands down your body, squeezing your ass. He flips you around, pressing your chest to the wall.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard, Y/N. I’ll be all you think about for the rest of your life.”

He shoves your pants down and rips your panties off you, rubbing his fingers through you. “Fucking hell, you’re a filthy fucking liar. You do like me like this, look how wet you are.” he says bringing his soaking fingers in front of your face. Your breath quickens, seeing evidence of how wet you are.

“Just fuck me, Hwa.” you groan.

He pulls out his hard cock and rubs his tip through you. “I’ll make you mine, Y/N. You’ll let me cum in you right? Own this pussy”

“Yes, Hwa. Please.”

He lines himself up and slides in slowly, gripping your hips tightly at the sensation.

“F-fuck, Baby. You feel so good, the best I’ve ever had.” he moans out. He fills you up completely, stretching you so painfully but not nicely. You savor the pain, it reminds you of how taboo this is, how much you deserve to feel pain. Youre letting this psychopath fuck you in a room full of bodies, your colleagues blood on your body doing nothing but turning you on. You deserve to feel pain, but he turns that pain into pleasure with the first thrust. It’s like your pussy was made for him, you fit together perfectly. You can feel him in your stomach, so deep inside you, you can feel yourselves becoming one. He picks up his pace, thrusting into you harshly.

“I’ve dreamt of this for so long. I’ve fucked my fist imagining it was this pussy. You couldn't even imagine all the nasty things I’d do to you, Bbay. I’d hurt you so bad but you’d love it, you’d beg me for more. B-beg me to make you mine.”

He pulls out quickly and flips you around, hiking you up the wall. You wrap your legs around his waist as he slides back in, fucking into you while staring into your eyes.

“I need to see that pretty face when I breed you. I have everything planned out for us, Y/N. There's a beautiful house waiting for you, so many rooms to fill up with our beautiful babies. I know you’d be a great mother, my perfect little housewife.”

He picks up his pace, feeling you clenching around him, but desperate to come together.

“I’d keep you full of my seed all the time, my love. You’d always feel me dripping out of you, I’d keep you nice and round with my babies for as long as I can. You want that don’t you? You wanna be my slutty little cum dump?”

You can barely answer him, let alone breathe. He’s hitting it so deep, you feel like your on another planet. You look down into his eyes and nod, mesmerized by his beautiful brown eyes. You’d let him do anything he wanted if it meant you felt like this forever.

“Cum for me, my love. I’m going to fill you up so nicely, ok?”

You let go, clamping down on his cock and hearing his deep groan. His warm cum fills you up to the brim, leaking out of you, despite the vice-like grip your cunt has on him.

“So fucking tight and warm, baby” he blabbers, shallowly thrusting his seed back into you. He pulls you in for a kiss by your neck, claiming your mouth as his own. You pull back for air, giving him a blissed out smile. The words he so badly wants to hear hang on your tongue but you can’t give it to him yet.

“I know, baby. You don’t have to say it, I already know.” he whispers against your lips and sets you down.

He helps you fix your clothes and begins to pull you out of the hospital. As you see the chaos ensuing, the reality of the situation hits you.

“Hwa, where are you taking me?”

“Hongjoong is outside we gotta go before the cops come.”

“Wait, what?” you pull back from him, stopping him in his tracks.

“Y/N, now's not the time.” he growls.

“Tell me what's going on.”

“You really think I was going to stay in this shit hole forever? Y/N, I’m not fucking crazy, I killed those people on purpose. The only reason I’m not rotting in jail is because I paid off the judge. I was planning my escape from the moment I got here but I only stayed this long because of you. So let's go.”

His words break you from your trance. This man is actually insane. You begin backing away from him but he gets visibly upset. “Y/N, don’t try this shit with me. You’re coming with me whether you like it or not.”

The dim lighting of the hallway and red lights from the alarms make him look sinister. For the first time you feel afraid of him.

“I don’t want to go with you, Seonghwa.”

He looks at you blankly before grabbing you harshly. “

“I didn’t want to do it this way, Y/N. I wanted us to be happy, but if I have to force you to want me, so be it. He pulls out the sedative he took from one of the guards and pulls off the cap with his teeth. “You’ll be mine forever Y/N. That baby growing in your belly is proof enough.”

He sticks the syringe into your neck, releasing the chemicals into your body. You feel the drugs immediately kick in, falling limp in his hold.

“Hwa, please don’t.” you whimper.

He caresses your face with a pout. “Don’t worry, Baby. You’ll love me eventually, I’ll make sure of it.”

He flashes you a wide, beautiful smile before everything fades to black.

#ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez x reader #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa smut #yandere ateez #yandere kpop #yandere seonghwa

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barblaz-arts · 6 months

Note

I haven’t sent any of the other messages, and this is the first time I’m even seeing your opinions on this matter as I’ve followed you for your Wenclair art.

I’m an Israeli citizen. On October 7th thousands of Hamas terrorists went into Israeli villages (on Israel’s territory) and raped, shot, beheaded, burned alive and murdered 1400 CIVILIANS. They kidnapped 230 more citizens into the Gaza Strip, including babies and the elderly (no idea if they are alive, as Hamas didn’t let the Red Cross or anyone else see them and REFUSED any deal to release them, despite all the lies they are spreading). Hamas uploaded videos of them doing these deeds, they were proud of them. We are still not done counting our dead, 3 weeks later, because of the state they were left in. We identify people by DNA pulled from pieces of skull tissue, by CT scans of burned masses of flesh showing parents hugging their children as they were burned alive.

A little bit of history. In 2005 Israel completely pulled out of Gaza, and handed it over to the Palestinians. In 2007 Hamas was elected to lead the Gaza Strip. This is an organization that in its charter says loud and clear they want to murder Jews. It’s not hidden, there is no question about it. They are proud of it. And since 2007 they have not allowed for an election in Gaza, they have stolen international aid money to build terror infrastructure and embedded themselves deep within their civilian population (just a few days ago evidence was provided that Hamas built their HQ under a hospital, specifically because they knew Israel wouldn’t bomb it).

The truth is, the pictures from Gaza are heartbreaking. The civilians are suffering and it’s making me sick. But how is Israel supposed to respond to the massacre of October 7th? Just pretend it didn’t happen? No country would. Israel isn’t targeting the civilian population though, unlike Hamas. I’m not saying innocent civilians aren’t killed, they very sadly are because war is horrible. But it’s always an accident, they are never the targets. Hamas is the target.

Israel has its part in creating Hamas just like the USA had its part in creating ISIS and Taliban. Still doesn’t excuse terrorism. Israel didn’t deserve the October 7th massacre anymore than the USA deserved 9/11. I hope that you can appreciate that.

The truth is, there are innocent civilians on both sides here that are suffering. Things aren’t black and white, and they never were with this conflict. And if you want to have a discussion I’ll happily talk to you privately, answer questions as best as I can. But only if we come from a place of mutual respect. If you want to block me, that’s fine too.

I do want to let you know while I can that your art is beautiful and made me smile on multiple occasions. I hope you continue it. And I wish you luck with everything and hope that we all have peaceful days in the future.

First of all. Gaza was not given to Palestine. Israel put them there and had Gaza serve as an open air prison.

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You can't go around saying "Israel has its part in creating Hamas but it still doesn't excuse terrorism" then go around saying that this genocide is justified because "What else are we supposed to do after what happened in Oct 7?" What a double standard. You do not get to say that what happened to them makes you feel bad but say that you were left with no other choice. You dont get to say that Hamas being born from 70+ of brutality is still not an excuse to kill but also say Israel doing the same thing is justified.

Now, of course this does not mean that I side with Hamas. Never have, never will. I side with Palestinians, something so many Zionists cannot seem to comprehend, because they see killing them as one and the same.

Listing off those atrocities, though heartbreaking, as I will always mourn the innocent, still does not change my stance or how I feel. I feel like a broken recorder, constantly having to repeat that the civilians in Gaza did not do those and in turn did not deserve any of this. The hostages don't either of course, and the families of the ones still held captive are furious with their government for choosing to bomb them along with Hamas like some sort of sacrifice, like what you are implying the civilian deaths to be. Just unfortunate casualties for the greater good.

You can go ahead and say that only Hamas were meant to be targeted all you want, but they did not need to cut off their water so they're not even able to clean and defecate. They did not need to cut off power and render hospitals useless. And NO they did not need to bomb those same hospitals, even IF it were true that it was a Hamas base. And they did not need to use phosphorus bombs to do it. This has, and always will be about Israel's hatred of arabs and Muslims, as it was 70 years ago before Hamas even existed, as it still is now.

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Tell me, if the past two or so weeks was really about Hamas, then why are these people mocking the civilians that are mourning their families' death as they starve?

youtube

None of this should have happened. Hell, you shouldn't even be living where you are in the first place. No one has any right to colonize. Whatever white supremacists or religious reason anyone says.

Of course this does not mean that I believe all jews or Israeli are as evil as the pieces of shit in that tiktok compilation or the powerful pile of dung that rule your country. There are Isreali and Jews protesting for Palestine as well, and I deeply admire them for their bravery and to feel compassion for the other side and act on it.

It's baffling how you're aware that Israel is responsible for Hamas creation but still, maybe not want it, but think all you can do is reluctantly accept the unavoidable. Because this was definitely avoidable. But your government actively wants this, and frankly I dont think it cares about you. It does not care about the soldiers they send out and the people that died and the hostages that were taken. They are using you as an excuse for more death and money.

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"Those thinking of revenge should be ashamed," said by one of the survivors of Oct 7. And she is right. You are demanding the wrong things of your government.

And no, I will not be talking to anyone about this in my direct messages. Talking about it privately makes it feel like some debate to be won, when this shouldn't be a debate at all. The reason why I answer these kinds of asks is to make people aware of what is happening. I'm just some girl, I cannot fight for Palestine in any way that can directly save a life and I dont have the financial capability to donate, but I can do this. We can make those sick excuses of humans on top know that we know of their stink and we will not give it any excuse.

#free Palestine #ceasefire in gaza

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y4z1 · 7 months

Text

Black, Stained White. | MDNI

Pairing: Bang Chan x reader

Synopsis: You and Bang Chan get into a playful fight when he finds out he isn't your bias, but what unrolls after your fight with Chan is a very not-so-bestfriend like situation.

Warnings: making out, sex, choking-ish, reader is called babygirl (duh, it's chan), fingering, Daddy kink, choking kink, spanking, basically just MDNI

WC: 1.5k

Chan was sitting across you, on the bean bag in the corner of the room, while you were sitting on your bed. His cute dimples and crescent-shaped eyes were staring back at you—cute. You were sharing a hilarious memory of you and Felix's disastrous moment of baking, and how you had accidentally slipped over a banana peel on the floor. His giggles filling the entire room, it was like heaven to your ears. You loved nothing more than hearing Chan happy.

Out of all the people you'd met, you loved Chan the most. You appreciated that he loved you for who you are, unlike others. Throughout your relationship of several years, Chan had always been the one putting a smile on your face. And so, you did the same for him. You really can't recall a single memory where you guys aren't dying of laughter on the floor.

After recollecting yourself and taking a few deep breaths, you finally looked back at him—and bursted out laughing, again. "I'm so sorry, I'm actually so sorry I'll stop"

5 minutes pass and you finally stopped laughing. Chan got up and stretched his arms out, he was wearing a full black outfit. He slipped his beanie off and his orange curly hair poofed out which looked, not to mention, so damn attractive.

He'd dyed his hair plenty of times, but I guess since it's been a while you'd never realized how much you'd craved seeing orange-haired Chan.

His eyes perked up at your and his body facing you. His eyebrows furrowed and head tilted. "Hey, I've never asked you, who's your bias?"

You smiled and blushed at the thought of your bias—or seungmin, specifically. But you couldn't tell him that, what if he tells the other members and then they feel like they're not good enough or just not loved.

"I like all the members", you'd thought you'd gotten away with it but deep down you knew your lies were pretty obvious, and the guilt was plastered on your face.

"Stop lying, I know you have a bias". He was smiling at you again, inching closer by the second. His sexy, deep, Australian accent making your heart beat even faster as if it's not about to already jump out of your body.

You were scared, guilty, and flustered all at the same time. And he could clearly tell. "I won't tell anyone" he said with a warm smile to calm you down a little. And he kept his promises, he really did, he kept all of them in fact.

Without a second thought, you looked at him in the eyes. "It's seungmin...", you fidgeted with your hands. A shocked look on his face, "SEUNGMIN?! I THOUGHT YOU WERE LEE KNOW BIASED", now you were the one with the shocked face. "Lee know?! What makes you think that?!" You replied. He widened his eyes and his signature dimpled smile on his face, "your murderous personality"

You chuckled "wow. Okay but listen, by bias I just mean that seungmin is the one who catches my eye the most. I don't have a real bias because it just changes every 3 days. These days its been you in my mind all day" you covered your mouth and your eyes widened realizing what you'd just said.

He smirked at you, from what you could tell from the corner of your eye. He ruffled your hair, "awwwww that's cute, you love me that much". He was teasing you. In response you smacked his hand away. But, it just made the situation worse, he pushed you onto your back and hovered over you.

It turned into a fight of him trying to get his hands on your body as a way of teasing and you just yanking his hands away, though eventually it stopped when he stared at you with dark, lustful eyes.

His deep brown eyes stared back at you. Everything around you, erased. All you could see was him, and you. His veiny arms were around your head, pinning your body into the mattress.

Your eyes travelled down to his lips. It was as if his lips were pulling you in and you couldn't escape them. They were a soft shade of cherry red, and heart shaped. His bottom lip was tucked under his teeth.

Without even realizing how or when, you were centimeters close. His lips, still bringing you in, until both your lips finally touched and brought each other in for a slow, savory kiss.

He pulled back, getting confirmation that it was okay to go on further. You gave him an approval nod and smile, going in for another kiss. This time a more intimate and longing one.

Eventually, it turned into a full-on make out session. Your hands roaming eachothers body.

You both pulled away from lack of oxygen, and his left hand snaked around your thigh while he brought his lips closer to your inner thigh, gliding his soft lips up and down.

He left one or two hickeys along the process, making sure to mark his territory.

He inched closer and closer, until his face was less than a centimeter away from your heat. In a teasing motion, he lifted his long, slender fingers and traced your folds up and down through your soaked panties.

"so soaked for me, huh babygirl?" He said in a deep, raspy voice, making you even wetter than you already were. He knew the effect he had on you, and he used it to an advantage. He knew every single one of your kinks, every one of your turn-on's.

He eyes were on you the whole time, making sure you were okay with going further.

He teased you over and over again, you were starting to lose patience and he knew that. Nonetheless, you stared at him with doe eyes, knowing that'd drive him crazy.

Your panties to the side in seconds, while he slipped two fingers in, receiving a satisfied moan in return. Three thrusts and he pulled out, smirking at you. You whined and tried other devious tricks on him that you were sure would drive him insane. But damn did he have self control.

There was one trick you hadn't tried though. You'd always known he had a daddy kink, well who didn't—it's literally Chan we're talking about.

You put on a little pout and doe eyes for him, tilting your head. "Please, daddy?" You know that did it for him when he bit his lip and smirked even harder.

An unexpected slap to your ass caught you off guard. You gasped at the stinging pain. "Say it again, babygirl "

"p-please daddy?" A tear making its way down the side of your face.

Though he'd put up a cold persona, he'd made sure to not hurt you in anyway by slowly entering into your heat.

Your walls clenched around him and you wanted more. Patience long forgotten, all you wanted was his massive dick thrusting in and out of you at a godly pace.

And he fulfilled your desires, thrusting in and out of you, right as you adjusted to his length. His left hand wrapped around your neck tightly. You could barely breathe but he knew you so well, he knew it was one of your kinks.

You could feel the similar knot tie itself in your stomach, and within seconds that knot untied itself. You came together at the same time, staining the black sheets white.

He collapsed on top of you, while you ran your hand through his curls. You both laid in bed for a while until you regained your energy to go and shower.

Chan got up first, walking over to the bathtub and turning on the hot water. He made sure the water was the right temperature, and made his way towards you, carrying you bridal style. You giggled to yourself. "What's so funny" he asked with a small smile on his face. "Nothing, don't worry."

He laid you into the bathtub gently. He was walking back towards your bedroom, and damn did bro have a whole bakery back there (bet his back hurts from carrying the whole kpop industry and that humongous a-). Your eyes perked up at him and you asked "you're not getting in?". He stopped and looked back at you, "no, haha you can wash up first"

You got up and took one leg out of the bathtub, reaching for his hand. You pulled him down into the bathtub with you, water splashing everywhere.

He looked at you with wide eyes and an open mouth, "did you just try to drown me?". You giggled and responded, "hey I thought you could swim"

He put on a bland expression, trying to hide that smile that wanted to take over his face "yeah I'm gonna swim in like, half a foot of water"

Whether you were taking a bath, cuddling, or even at work, your bickering never stopped.

A/N: Wrote this at like 2 AM only cuz if I were to continue it later, it would be chilling in my drafts for years.

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readyforevolution · 3 months

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“I do not think that life will change for the better without an assault on the Establishment, which goes on exploiting the wretched of the earth. This belief lies at the heart of the concept of revolutionary suicide. Thus it is better to oppose the forces that would drive me to self-murder than to endure them. Although I risk the likelihood of death, there is at least the possibility, if not the probability, of changing intolerable conditions. This possibility is important, because much in human existence is based upon hope without any real understanding of the odds. Indeed, we are all—Black and white alike—ill in the same way, mortally ill. But before we die, how shall we live? I say with hope and dignity; and if premature death is the result, that death has a meaning reactionary suicide can never have. It is the price of self-respect.”

Dr. Huey P. Newton

Black Panther Party

Co-Founder

#blacktumblr #black history #black liberation #african history #huey newton #black panther party #co founder

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dancingastralwitch · 6 months

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A Palestinian man is asked in an interview by a white woman if he condemns Hamas while his people are being slaughtered in the open, and HE is the one condemned when he yells that it's injustice to insulate that his people deserve to be murdered, because "Hamas chose this."

A black woman is attacked first in a fight and SHE is the bad guy when she strikes back, she is the one whose face is plastered all over social media to be condemned and shamed for "aggression."

Two sisters are appropriately reacting to their oppressors by ripping off posters promoting their propaganda, and THEY are shamed and attacked for their lack of politeness when their people are being killed for existing.

An American democrat watches her colleagues cheer on genocide and ethical cleansing, the murder of children and the rape of women and the slaughter of families, and SHE is the one censored for speaking out in defense of them, despite her grief of losing family members.

Zionists are not condemned for enjoying the thought of children being killed, for calling Palestinians "animals" or saying Gaza should be "turned into a parking lot", Israeli doctors can get away with demanding that Palestinians, HUMAN BEINGS, should be murdered, that their only remaining hospital should be crushed.

They are not condemned for saying they wanted nuclear weapons unleashed on Gaza, they are not condemned for the imprisonment and torture of children, for desecrating dead Palestinians' corpses and mauling their bodies, for mocking Muslim Palestinians by rubbing their bullets against pig's skin before shooting them, for bombing Palestinian churches, for bombing universities, for shutting electricity from Gaza, cutting Palestinians from food and water, not letting them access to aid, for bombing CANCER hospitals and CHILDRENS HOSPITALS, for turning the sky of Gaza RED from explosions, for killing enough students that the entire school year was canceled, for annihilating families, for attacking Jewish people in Jerusalem, for cutting dead fetuses off dead mothers, for STEALING THEIR SKIN AND ORGANS and using them for their benefit, for forcing CHILDREN to hold a press conference to say that hey, they want to live.

Insinuating that this is about religion is the basis of Zionism. 60 members of Hamas were killed, and 10,500 civilians killed, 4000 of which are children. Over 800 bloodlines erased. Israel says they aim for "damage, not accuracy." Implying this is about Hamas is lies.

When white people in power tell you from their air-conditioned studios this is Israel defending itself, refuse to let Palestinian journalists explain things happening from their point of view, watch those journalists lose their entire families for speaking about what's happening to them, demonize Arabs who rage about injustice, ask Palestinians grieving if they condemn Hamas, know this is propaganda.

You shouldn't need them to tell you they're parroting lies to you. Their lies kill people. Their lies destroy people. Their apologies are insincere and their "sympathy" is limited only to those who look like them. It is unjust. It is cruel.

If I was were to narrate to you every atrocity Israel commited that I am aware of, I would never stop typing.

#and no matter how much people will yell about this #zionists will only listen to other zionists #no matter how brilliant and educated a non-white person #can be #their opinions and thoughts are disregarded #cnn only aired an interview from a nurse working at the Indonesian hospital in gaza because she was white #no matter how many people yell for the world to free Palestinians #how many humans with heart and grace do so #the congress and biden are the ones with power.#listen to people and be patient #we should not quiet down once a ceasefire is called.#we should keep yelling until every man and woman and child and tree and house in Palestine is free #until the birds chirp again without being shot down.#palestine #free palestine

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saiidahyunie · 3 months

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my knife that's bounded by your love

witch!son chaeyoung x witchhunter!reader || angst, fluff || pt.2 here

synposis: you and the celestial witch you captured are forced to rely on each other in the harsh wilderness of the winter, and what comes after.

warnings: cursing ; blood ; violence ; suggestive content ; enemies to lovers ; attempted sexual assault (not by the reader though) ; posessive behavior

a/n: i threw this idea to @nr1chaedickrider in January and was motivated to finish this when the mood film of the with you-th mini album came out. :)

(this has been sitting in my drafts for the longest time now)

they were fast and fluid coming into the dead of night.

chaeyoung is awoken to the snarling face of a man holding a knife shoved against the curve of her throat. she chokes a scream as the man buries a hand into her hair, dragging her out of bed. he’s spitting nonsense in a string of curses, calling her the bride’s demon, a whore, it was all in a flash but she could only focus on the terrified shrieking of her sisters outside.

adrenaline is coursing through her veins, but all it could afford is her hyper-vigilance and panic. she stumbles along the ground like a newborn calf getting the first whiffs of the new air as the hunter opens the door and tosses her out into the cold.

and then she sees the blood.

the visible stark red stained on the blanket of pure white snow. the fair skin of her sister’s throat slashed through, pooling ruddy around her prone body. another one lies right beside her, face frozen in abject horror, an arrow sunk deep in the center of her chest. both were dead.

dead.

chaeyoung is consumed with pure rage, nearly blinding all thoughts as she twists around, senselessly as the blade cuts into her flesh, snapping her teeth at the man’s neck. the man snarls, whipping her head around by her hair, but as much as her vision swims, she doesn’t relent. wrapping her cold hands around his tense wrist and whispers an incantation, grinning while the man yanks his hand away with an agonizing scream, skin blistering through and puncturing hot, blood boiling just beneath, but her victory was only for a few moments. another hunter flanks from behind and kicks her knee out. chaeyoung collapses to the snow with a prolonged mixture of a groan and hiss, her woolen nightgown soaked through.

her entire village had been razed to the ground, burned to a charred, cracking crips. the small wooden houses were nothing but ashy remains. her sisters all piled to form a large puddle swaddling in their own blood, their eyes empty of life and glazed over like a glass doll’s. screams echo around her in a grisly chorus, breaking through the air in all of its horror.

chaeyoung stifles a wince as a broad hand sinks into her hair and heaves her upward, shutting her eyes when the edge of the knife finds her exposed throat, unwilling to face her murderer, to give the hunter’s satisfaction of witnessing her fear.

“you deserve this,” the hunter whispers to her, their pungent, rancid breath warming the outer shell of her ear. “for trading your soul.”

pressing the blade deeper, inciting a motion across, she holds her breath, lungs contracting, anticipating the rush of hot blood followed by the pain, before another voice, low with an ear-piercing command, asks, “what do you think you’re doing?”

the hunter backs off immediately, and chaeyoung crumples back onto her hands and knees, panting hoarsely while clutching her neck. she glances up, noticing a pair of heavy yet sleek, black boots. her eyes lift upwards, trailing over woolen trousers and a dark brown, fur-lined coat, before lingering on a simple silver cross dangling from her neck.

the antithesis of her kind. witch-hunters.

despite her vision being blurred, she finds your face. you’re nothing but with all harsh, rigid angles and sun-kissed skin, your slick hair and your lips chapped pink, the eyes were emotionless and burned like ice. you stare down at her, expression scornful, and lift your sword to her cheekbone. in a firm press, the blade sinks beneath her skin, blood beading against the cold steel; chaeyoung viciously bites her tongue, choking with a pained whimper.

you then slid the flat of her sword beneath her chin, lifting her head again, turning it side to side to side and to side, examining her.

she won’t touch me, chaeyoung realizes once the agony fades from her mind. she knows better.

“is she the last one?”

“uh.” vaguely, she notices the two other hunters glance at each other. “we’re not actually sure.”

“do you idiots at least remember the one’s you’ve killed?” you ask again, clearly annoyed.

“well.” the hunter purses their mouth in thought. “first, we got rid of the wise women.”

chaeyoung’s eyes pop with astonishment. she nearly keels over at the sudden wave of grief bursting through her body. the wise women were the oldest witches in the village, and the most powerful. for them to be murdered so easily and quickly—

“then the younger ones. the, uh—”

the children, she supplies. but she won’t call them that.

“and we went through the rest. they weren’t particularly difficult to get rid of. this village was festering with small pests and decrepit beings. we didn’t even bother going through the bodies.”

“the both of you are morons,” you growl, abruptly furious. she has blood splattered across her angular cheek and collar. “we always keep one for information on how to find the neighboring villages. how else do you think we find them?”

“y/n, we–”

“and yet, here you were, about to kill this one when you haven’t even bothered checking if there were any others left to replace her.”

you gesture at chaeyoung without giving a sense of acknowledgement, almost as if she’s a runt. the other two hunters have the gall to appear daunted.

“i’m sorry, y/n,” one of them says, dipping their head. “we didn’t think of that at the time.”

“like you guys actually would think about that. fucking dumbasses.” you spit, rolling your eyes. for a moment, you look back as there was a quick urge to lecture them more, before spitting on the ground, shaking your head. you snap your fingers towards chaeyoung’s direction.

“if you boneheads want to be useful, then bind her with some rope and start bringing her back to camp. we’ll find some post to tie her until we can properly interrogate her.”

so she’s the leader, chaeyoung realizes, wide-eyed at the realization, as a doting pit deepens in her gut. she speaks with authority, expecting to be obeyed right away. and to her utter shock, she is. the two grab a thick layer of robe, twining it around her wrists and locking them in place. chaeyoung glances up at them, imagining the thought of how amazing it’ll feel to hear them scream once she sets their blood to a boil, once turing the flesh into instant ice with a simple touch before setting fire to the rest. the same way the hunters did to her sisters. the resolve was already set in stone for her.

but the hunter, oblivious to the plotting chaeyoung was devising, simply glances down to her feet.

“how bout we get some shoes on her,” you scoff, motioning to turn away. “the last thing we need is for her to freeze to death before even reaching back to camp.”

it had been at least a half hour walk back to their encampment, and by the time they forced her back to the ground and tied her wrists to the wooden post, she’s half-frozen. they had put on fur-lined boots over her feet as you requested, but refused to give her anything else to battle against the cold. chaeyoung’s lips were dark blue, fingertips nearly blackened from the frostbite she’s getting. if she were to stay like this for any longer, she’d develop hypothermia once dawn breaks again unless she can get warmer clothes or a better shelter.

chaeyoung grist her teeth, jerking her wrists hard. the rope bites back into her delicate skin and fights the wince away from her mouth, throwing her head back against the wooden post.

she needs her hands to use her magic. the hunters know that. it’s the only reason why they’ve tied her like this in the first place.

chaeyoung then closes her hands, trying to mentally block out the cold, the sounds of the rambunctious laughter as the mixture of men and women cheer in celebration at the destruction of her whole livelihood. she needs to keep her head clear to think, but the adrenaline inside her fades away as the only thing in her mind was the thick, displeasing smell of blood and death, the bodies of her fallen sisters. disgusted by the image ingrained in her head, blinking out tears as she remembers the sight of their slit throats and dull eyes, tiny hands fisting the soft snow as knives were thrust into them relentlessly.

choking down a sob, tucking into herself and bowing her head to her knees. the youngest among them had only just turned six—a girl by the name of diana. as they dragged her away, chaeyoung had accidentally stumbled over her body back then, eyes up toward the night sky, bile moving upwards to her throat when she notices present arrow behind her back. the two hunters had shoved her forward before she could vomit it out.

i can’t die, chaeyoung thinks despairingly, turning her eyes up to the unforgiving heavens above. i have to kill them first.

in front of her, chaeyoung can see two male hunters circle around a fire, bundled up in heavy cloaks and sucking something whilst in their leather layered skins, their cheeks flushing red. they’re drinking, she realizes in distaste . they just wiped out an entire village of sleeping women and children and they’re drinking. impossibly, her loathing for them grew even larger.

“hey, witch!”

she narrows her eyes, tensing up her muscles when she notices the pair of hunters get up from the surrounding campfire and trudge over to her. their fur collars are painted with dried blood, lips tugging to a victorious grin and their eyes voided with nothing as they rove over her. chaeyoung is unsure if they see her as any different or more valuable than the wooden post that she’s bound to.

as the pair approach, one of them—the very same hunter who had held a blade to her throat just a little over an hour ago—nudges her leg with their boot and gwaffs when chaeyoung growls at them. not noticing her fear, and even if the hunter did, they were actually enjoying it.

“she’s a lively one ain’t it?” the hunter says to their friend, head tilted before giving a mere casual observation–one that makes her shudder. “but pretty.”

“pretty, yeah. i think if you tried touching her, though, she’d rip your hand off.”

“like she can do anything if she’s tied up like this,” the hunter adds, squatting down to match chaeyoung’s position. making the move closer, hand slowly inching up her leg, their eyes starving. chaeyoung snarls at the hunter viciously and curls in on herself, shaking with much intensity that she’s vibrating against the post, but the hunters laugh at her trembling image. the other hunter next to the first one leans down to the opposite side of her and another approaches the pair, indulging with a hand to her stomach, and she holds back a sob, vision swimming with a sickness in her stomach.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

the sense of deja vu electrifies her when she notices you storm over and grip the other hunter by the neck. you throw them off, kicking their stomach once hitting the ground before your foot met their face again in quick succession.

“are you three out of your goddamn minds?” you snarl again, kicking the hunter still on the ground. “did you not understand the message of not touching her before the interrogation that i need to repeat to you?!”

“fuck off!” to her small satisfying relief, the other hunter at her side jumps to their feet, clearly outraged. “we were just trying to have a little bit of fun! who cares if a skeptic whore gets fucked before we eventually kill her!”

you sneer an eye-piercing glare. “would it be compelling for you to fuck a pig instead?”

chaeyoung’s mind reels at that, the cold pit swallowing her body and blood rushing to their areas more urgently. the reason was all apparent and she still couldn’t believe with her eyes, she is less than human to them. even worse, she was no better than an animal that finds it fun to roll around in their own shit.

still, the sniding remark seems to give the hunters a new sense to their actions, and without looking at her, one of the fellow hunters pulls the other to their feet. they all walk back to their log, heads down in defeat, leaving you and the leader in the frigid silence.

when you turn back to face her, chaeyoung pointedly conceals her lingering distress and refuses to meet her eye, staring above her.

you cock your head to the side with a tsk, “they didn’t give you a blanket to use didn’t they?” observing her.

“was that not purposeful?” chaeyoung snorts. “i thought the endgame was having me killed.”

“not yet.” and before she can even bring herself to process that derogatory statement, you reach up and loosen the clasp at your collar, shucking off the heavy jacket and dropping it carelessly to her lap. she flinches beneath the weight, stomach turning inside-out at the pungent odor of blood and sweat, her body heat was too enticing for her to ignore, so she doesn’t shove the coat off.

chaeyoung sees you cross your arms. the absence of your large coat doesn’t negate the gravity of your stature. you still loomed over her, shoulders broad and legs long. nothing about you seems faltering nor weak.

“you’re from dunchon, past the mountain range.” you say, studying her closely.

chaeyoung scoffs. do you expect her to be impressed?

“and you want me to assume that observation had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you found my village in the mountains? that’s a clever deduction of information.”

you shake your head again. “it’s your accent.”

“and yours is from busan,” chaeyoung retorts. she recalls the very vague memories of her father. the way his mouth wreathes the syllables in a way that reminds her of him, although she diminishes the comparison as quickly as it forms, the notion now inconceivable; her father would never raise a weapon against their child.

“so then your mother was a witch then? or maybe from your father’s bloodline?”

“that’s none of your business.”

“maybe the village elders took you in? you looked different compared to them.”

“really? did you have a good look at their faces before or after you put your blades and arrows in them?” chaeyoung snaps back.

your eyes flash with a wick of temperament before you lowered herself to her knees, grabbing her face. the small cut through her lips burning at her touch and the sudan proximity dives her heart to her stomach.

“you happen to forget who i am witch,” you growled, voice lowly with a rumble. “i only kept you alive so that i can get information out of you, not out of some sudden change of heart. i could care less about killing you–” you then squeeze her jaw hard; a punctuated threat—”so when i ask you about something, i expect an answer for them.”

chaeyoung scowls through your grip, cheeks pushed up high, tongue slurring her speech. “pigs. can’t. speak.”

your growls again with incense, quickly rising back to your feet. scrubbing her hand down the fabric of your trousers before jabbing a finger at her. “i won’t waste my energy with you.”

“then you have all the reason to kill me now,” chaeyoung spits again, glancing down at your long fingers, at the blood and gore that was embedded beneath your nails—and, my, isn’t that a rare sight? “you have big hands. you can snap my neck into two if you wanted to.”

“oh, believe me, witch,” you say, eyes shining. “i’m dreaming of it.”

you and chaeyoung glare into each other’s eyes in the fraught silence for several long, excruciating moments. chaeyoung’s heart rails painfully against the encapsulated walls of her chest, hackles raised as she watches your expression shift from murderous contempt to a more tortured resignation. you exhale deeply and pinch the bridge of your nose. “we’ll speak again tomorrow. and you will answer my questions. i don’t care what i’ll have to do to make you.”

“is there any guarantee you can give me beforehand so that you won’t slice my throat immediately after you get what you need?”

you send a smile to her that’s all teeth. “i guess that depends on what you give me.”

without a parting glance, you turn on your heel and walk past the fire and into a large tent on the other side. chaeyoung glowers after you, burning with an indignation even as her body shivers from the chilling winds. in a brief moment, she contemplated throwing your cloak and kicking it to her bound hands so that she can set it ablaze under her fingertips; but that would be ridiculous, even she knows this. at this rate she’ll freeze from hypothermia sooner that she’ll die beneath your blade. she has to play the long game and prioritize her mind over her pride in any hope of surviving this.

just then, another gust of an icy breeze rushes past, upsetting the flaps of the tent before settling a chill down to her marrow, shivering violently, instinctively ducking under your the furs of your cloak to shield herself from the cold, stifling down the urge of resentment for your inadvertent help. the acceptance of this felt way too piercing like the sting of betrayal.

survival, chaeyoung desperately reminds herself. survival over your pride. the wise women had drilled this lesson into her head for years now. a witch does what she has to in order to survive. they are such a hunted class; it was the only way that they can protect themselves.

she whispers this mantra to herself as the warmth from your cloak begins to pull her to sleep. survival over your pride. she almost starts to believe it.

chaeyoung wakes up the the sound of shuffling, light steps against the powdery snow with a wet crunch the next morning.

she moans softly, eyes fluttering as she pushes herself upward to stretch her back, only to freeze at the sight of a large wolf pacing in front of her. it’s a frightful looking creature, an eye gouged out and it’s red teeth, a lonely fang peeking over its lips. pink saliva drops from it’s muzzle, blood coating it’s tongue and pale grey fur. behind it, the hunter who held a knife to her throat—touched her, called her pretty, a skeptic whore—lies on their back, eyes glazed over, blood burbling from his open mouth.

their throat had been devoured through.

she inhales sharply as she whips her head away, wild gaze darting around frantically until she spots the circle of prowling wolves at the campfire, snouts buried in the bodies of the four other hunters, half-eaten and choking in their own blood, fingers twitching and mouths moving reflexively screaming. some actually looked to still be alive.

bile rose up from her stomach again, disgust trumping the venomous hatred. she’s stunned to realize that the sight of their violent demise does little to bring her any sense of relief, only horror.

but the brown-eyed one. the thought storms through her like a jolt of electricity. the one they called y/n. where is she?

she jerks forward like second nature, her raw wrists scraping against the coarse rope, but she doesn’t realize the sensation. her eyes scan the environment, seeking you out. maybe—

the sound of her struggling alerts the wolf in front of her. pausing before turing its giant head to her slowly and chaeyoung meets its glowing golden eye, feeling her blood run ice-cold. it steps closer, hackles raising, lips pulled up to reveal red teeth primed like daggers. she panics at the low growl that rumbles from its chest, yanking her wrists against the post with a renewed motivation. her range of motion is severely limited; she feels blood begin to smear around the rope as her flesh rips, but she doesn’t care. she can’t afford to think of anything but escaping.

“come on!” she spits out, swallowing down a sob. “i am not dying like this! i refuse to!”

the wolf snarls at her loud cursing, nipping away at the mountainous cloak, and chaeyoung jerks her wrists again, harder, only for the rope to cut deeper into her skin. she hisses through her gritted teeth as tears cling to her lashes, despair building up, clamping down like a vice around her throat. she peers up at the twinkling, merciless stars and whispers, “please.”

and then—suddenly, fatefully—a large, black-gloved hand grasps the wolf by its long sound and slits its throat before it can even fight back. the wolf’s vicious snarl putters off into a pained yelp as it collapses onto the floor, hot blood turning the snow red. chaeyoung’s vile gaze darts upward to see you panting with exertion, crimson splatter across your face and clothes. a heavy weight lifts off her chest, light as air, that she wasn’t convinced that it was relief; she couldn’t call it anything else either.

but then you step towards her, arms outstretched, daggers brandished and glinting red beneath the pale moonlight over you two. chaeyoung jerks, just as afraid as before.

“get away from me!” she screams, struggling frantically. “if you touch me, i’ll–!”

“you’ll what?!” you sneer, before ducking behind her. chaeyoung tenses, anticipating a stab in the back, but is surprised when she feels her binds loosen instead. the rope snaps, cut through, and she yanks her arms towards the front of her body. smeared blood covered her wrists, stark against her fair pale skin, and she smothers a wince as she rolls them, every motion sending shockwaves of pain stinging down her nervous system. she could barely feel her muscles.

you move to her front, eyes catching her mutilated flesh. “you cut yourself.”

“because you tied me up and i was trying to escape!” chaeyoung snaps, flustered. “that wolf was going to eat me and—and why did you kill it? y-you saved–”

“for the same reason why i killed all the other ones.” you gesture behind your shoulder, and her eyes widen spotting the slow-bleeding bodies, arrows lodged in their sides. she didn’t even notice it at all.

you turn back, and it’s then that chaeyoung notices the dark, wet stretch of fabric over your shoulder, the puncture wounds of teeth marks against your exposed skin. she gasps loudly, surging towards you instinctively. “you’re wounded!”

you grasp her hand, squeezing it tightly till the bone creaks. “don’t even think about touching me,” you snarl.

“you’ll bleed to death.”

“and i’d rather die than be touched by your demon magic.”

“it’s not demon magic!” chaeyoung argues, before narrowing her eyes, pressing closer. you tighten your grip again, but she isn’t fazed. she’s freezing cold and injured and she can’t move without feeling like needles poking beneath her skin, but all it does is solidify her resolve. survival over pride.

“you need me,” chaeyoung says. “your hunters have been slaughtered, you’ve exterminated the closest thing we have to a nearby civilization only a couple hours ago, and you’ll die from either the cold or blood loss before you can find anyone else to help you. so let me.”

you glare at her, brilliant eyes flashing with a hint of loathing. she can basically see your internal debate, and how your mind wrestles at the thought between throttling her to the ground or taking up on her offer. finally, and with a pointed squeeze, you drop chaeyoung’s wrist and sneer. “do what you need to do.”

chaeyoung blinks, startled by your acquiescence, but reacts quickly. she settles her cold hand over the slope of your neck and closes her eyes, reaching inside herself for that shimmering pool of magic, as vital as the beat of her heart. her lips move, and beneath her palm, the skin on you starts to stitch together, healing the torn flesh underneath. the effort saps most of her energy and when she’s done, she limps over you, exhausted and freezing again.

your chest heaves, in a surprise shock, gaze still on her with wide eyes. chaeyoung swallows tightly, voice croaking.

“do you still plan to kill me now?”

the silence stretches the air again, too long for comfort, but not enough to be anything stupefying. your hands find her shoulders, and you wrench her back, gazing down at her, everything about her was a big question mark, a debate in morality. chaeyoung’s surprised as well, then, when you stand up and tug her up with you. you grab your cloak, tucking it tight beneath chaeyoung’s chin, before swooping down and lifting her over your shoulder. chaeyoung grapples against you, stunned when she feels you place her hands around the nape of your neck.

“i thought you were going to–” she gasps out.

“are you so used to deceit that you actually expect that i’d kill you after you just saved my life?”

chaeyoung blinks, shaking her head numbly. despite how predictable and simple minded you and your hunters were, she couldn’t make sense of you. “i-i thought you were going to. you wanted me dead.”

“i still do want you dead,” you say easily, and it cuts into her scattered thoughts like a swift blade. “but then i decide. your death belongs to me. not to some rabid animal, and not to the cold.”

yet, the cold is what is consuming the both of you now. dragging in her back down from the clouds of confusion and into the hellish earth with you.

“then do it,” chaeyoung whispers dimly.

you shift her into your arms, carrying her bridal style. “just you wait.”

you were forced to stop not even an hour later when you see chaeyoung turning blue.

chaeyoung doesn’t know why, exactly; she stopped feeling the cold about half an hour ago, which he insists is a problem when she haltingly informs you later, a tongue a mere stone in her mouth and her voice slurring.

you set her down against a tree when you see a small cave that will be good enough to keep you guys away from the harsh elements. chaeyoung watches you, dazed, eyelids heavy as you build a fire fast with just scattered pieces of dry wood and skinny sticks. once fanned to a successful height, you turn to her.

“do you feel warmer now?”

chaeyoung could barely move her lips. she wasn’t any warmer, but she wasn’t any colder either. her blood drifting along like ice in her veins, sluggish and thick.

“are you ignoring me, witch?” you snap. she makes a reply, but your annoyed expression suddenly shifts, shuffling closer and leaning down to reach inside your cloak so that you can touch your hands. you seethe through your teeth at the temperature of her skin, your rough palms skating past her scarred wrists to rest on her upper arms.

“you’re as cold as ice,” you mumble. “and you’re so stiff. you should be shivering like a newborn fawn.”

chaeyoung moans softly, shifting her head against the tree as her lips purse, eyes getting heavier and heavier. a sinking drowsiness tempting her to sleep, but before she was able to closer her eyes, you swat her cheek lightly with your fingers, holding a stern expression.

“stay awake. you have hypothermia,” you say, sliding your hands up and down chaeyoung��s numb legs.

“i…could’ve told y-you…”

“then why didn’t you say something to me before?” you snap with a frustration in your voice. chaeyoung notices that you’re a volatile person, your aura generous with an explosive punch. in the span of an hour, she loses track of the multitude of things she’s heard you condemn and curse at.

“cause i’d rather the cold…kill me than you,” chaeyoung slurs out lazily.

“that’s a bold lie. you’d rather kill me first.” you say as you pick her up again, setting her down on your lap in front of the fire. chaeyoung wants to resist this hold, revolted by the proximity, but the mantra of the village elders comes back to her mind again: survival over your pride. she barely has a choice to make in this.

chaeyoung leans against you, allowing to tuck her face into your shoulder. your hands slide down to her boots, fingers dipping over the lining of fur, testing its viable warmth before rubbing them up and down her legs. when she begins to shiver violently, you drape the cloak around the both of you and blow hot air into her icy hands. chaeyoung mumbles nothing but complete gibberish against the curve of your neck, struggling to make sense of your actions and with irritants in her body’s appreciation of them.

“w-why are you…doing this?” chaeyoung asks, forcing her stiff lips to move.

“doing what?”

“keeping m-me warm. s-saving me f-from the wolf. is…it b-because you’re th-th-thankful?”

“thankful?” you spit in disbelief. your motions going against chaeyoung’s shoulder in a jerked fashion, belying his wave of anger. “i could never feel gratitude towards a witch.”

“then w-what?”

“you said it first. we need each other to survive. i’d recommend you start worrying about your fate the second you suspect you’ve outlived your usefulness.”

chaeyoung feels a resentment boiling in her chest, appalled by the objectifying language you spat out–-like she’s an elderly bloodhound she’ll have to take down—but it doesn’t surprise her either; you hardly even think she’s human.

but despite the growing instinct to dismount herself from you and lose her battle to the elements, chaeyoung knows that you were right. that she is. the mountains in the dead of the winter weather was merciless for either of them to survive on their own. if she could grab the dagger from her belt and slit her throat right now, her thirst for revenge and vengeance might be sted, but her fate would already be sealed; she won’t last a week out in the cold without you..

a substantial part of herself almost didn’t care about it anymore, the satisfaction of her over your dead body would just be enough.

“get some sleep,” you whisper, oblivious to her internal conflict. “we’re gonna have a long day tomorrow.”

everything inside chaeyoung rails to do the complete opposite, if only to displease the needs towards you, but she’s too exhausted to be defiant, and the fire and bumpy slide of your fingers against her skin felt nice. her head drops, slipping down to your chest and within minutes. she’s dozed off to sleep along with you.

the next morning she wakes up in the cave, bundled up to her ears in both of their cloaks, positioned against the rocky wall. you squat in front of the fire, pacing away from the mouth of the cave. when you notice that chaeyoung’s awake, you pick up a rabbit leg and brush it against her nose.

“can you move?” you ask burly, “are you any warmer?”

chaeyoung blinks, surprised at the caring question. the offer, and wriggles around a little bit. she was pleased to find that her blood actually feels like normal blood again, and reaches out, taking the food from your hand. she turns the leg over curiously with lips pursed.

“don’t worry, it isn’t poisioned.” you scoff.

“why should i believe you?”

you then abruptly snatch her wrist. chaeyoung flinches, expecting your grip to tighten up, almost to break bone, but all you do is lean forward to take a bite out of her rabbit leg. your jaw works as you chew while leaning back, eyebrows raised as if to ask, there? is that what you wanted?

chaeyoung couldn’t think of a proper response. dazed, she brings the food to her mouth.

“if you can walk,” you say, as you eat. “we should start moving. i would like to make the most of the light that we have for today.”

she swallows before asking, “for what?”

“what do you mean, ‘for what?’ we’re stranded. we need to find some place other than here closer to the kingdom.”

“and what happens after that? do we go our separate ways? or do we kill each other like civilized people?”

you bare your teeth into a mean grin. “i suppose that depends on how i feel when that moment comes.”

chaeyoung frowns, leaning against the wall, unmoved by your cruelty. under your cloak, she attempts to wiggle her toes, frustrated by the effort. “i still can’t walk,” she mumbles, ashamed, “not really at all. my limbs still feel too weak.”

you shrug, gnawing on your own rabbit leg. “i’ll carry you.”

“are you sure you’ll want to?” she snaps, looking at you. her fault, she thinks, self-pity morphing into indignation, depsisting you anew. it’s her fault. “you don’t want to chop my legs off first? just to make me an easier weight to lug around?”

“choose your words wisely, witch,” you warn, eyes glittering with malice, the thrill of an enticing challenge, if only she’ll invite her to go that far. “if you tempt me with more exhilarating ideas like that, i might have to listen to you.”

chaeyoung glowers darkly at you. a million insults running through her mind, each more rancid than the other, but he obvious revelment in her rage keeps her from speaking it. you had enough victories over her, she decides.

instead, she turns away from you, gnawing a piece of the rabbit’s thigh into her mouth.

the first day of ‘real’ traveling through the harsh tundra. nothing but back and forth of bursts of trudging through the snow. it was nothing but a chore for you to ensure that chaeyoung was arm, heating her up when needed, all that in between carrying her. that was the deal. she also notices how quickly susceptible to the cold that left you, the instinct to help you leaves her unsettled but all leaves a simple justification: survival your over pride. i still need her.

two days pass and chaeyoung feels somewhat recovered. moving her body more and more idly and she’s able to walk farther distances without you having to sweep into your arms every time she cracks in the cold. it was already difficult as it is, food being scarce, the winds pinching away at the skin. the both of you realize the condition that you’re in and she’s the first one to bring it up.

“we’re lost aren’t we.”

you stop, the ground breaking under your feet. already, she can sense the annoyance. “what?”

“we’re lost,” she says again, looking around with an arm flared out, “we’ve passed this tree five times now.”

you face her irritably, “i know how to move around these woods. we’re fine.”

“you’re so unbearably blind.” chaeyoung protests, “have you forgotten that we’re stranded on a mountain, and in the middle of nowhere? we don’t have clothes, no shelter, and we can’t even scrape up food up for–”

“i’m a fucking hunter!”

“well you can’t hunt now! the animals around here are hibernating! the only reason that we’re still alive is that we’ve been lucky to not die yet!”

“no.” you walk over to chaeyoung, up close. she could see the snowflakes petering over your long hair. “we’re only alive because of me. i was the one who lit the fire. i hunted for food. and i was the one who found the cave.”

“and if we both die it’ll be because of you.” the wind blows against them, hair whipping up shivering, ducking into you reflexively as the sole shield radiating body and warmth. you oblige easily, raising a hand to cover chaeyoung’s face from the chill. the hypothermia was becoming more apparent, you both needed to depend on each other.

“okay,” your voice rumbling against her cheek, “i’ll find us something soon, hopefully.”

chaeyoung doesn’t thank you however, the shame was over her head greatly. you step away to start walking and she follows along just after.

it had already turned to dusk when the two of you stumbled at a cabin. the blizzard was already hindering your vision, you drag chaeyoung by the wrist, heaving all that you could despite how slowly she was moving.

in a wave of positive relief, the door wasn’t bolted down and the knob easily surrendered to your grip. shifting chaeyoung to a bridal carry as you walk past the door frame, she slumps alonsgide your chest, stars in her eyes spotting the large bed with a steep pile of fur blankets and a fireplace.

“god,” chaeyoung sighs out with a smile tugging her lips. “w-we might actually s-s-s-survive this.”

you drop chaeyoung to the ground suddenly, a startled yelp as she steadies herself on her feet, still weak.

“you had to remind me that you’re a skeptic just like that.” you mutter, pushing behind her.

chaeyoung primes a scowl amidst the passing thought of you forgetting and asks cooly, “d-did i offend your high sens-s-siblities?”

“you’re funny.” you snort kneeling at the fireplace, fingers trembling as you attempt to get a fire starting.

“you m-m-might have h-hyopthermia,” she says.

“and if i do, then you do too. it seems my cloak and your thin nightgown did little to protect you from the cold.”

“n-not my fault for being underd-dressed. i was ya-yanked off my bed in the m-middle of the n-night.”

you roll your eyes.

chaeyoung watches you work in the howling silence. you had found the discarded logs in a set corner of the room and tossed them into the pit. you worked fast however, lighting a spark beneath your flint and steel, fanning the embers until a steady flame appeared in the thin air.

“this place reeks.” you say, leaning back while chaeyoung huffs.

“it’s y-you. your clothes stink.”

“because i’ve let you use them to keep you warm. i’ve been doing all the work here.” you say, standing up. you sniff the collar on your back, chaeyoung nearly laughs at your srcunched face in disgust. “you are right, our clothes are dirty.”

“i can w-wash them tomorrow.”

“good.”

chaeyoung nods and turns around, scanning the darkinteriror. there was a simple rack placed against the wall–probably for clothes and other essential wear, there were some utensils. no kitchen but the hearth, but after fighting against the cold with the food being cooked over a small fire, even that seems something worth celebrating. she smiles, turing around to face you again.

“s-say, you think tomorrow you’ll b-be able to–”

your shirt was off.

she wasn’t sure why the image of you strikes her acutely as it did, but it was there and you were shirtless. your black coat, knit sweater, the layered tunics, and your sweaty bra lay at your feet, leaving you in your pants and boots, discarding those right after. when you catch chaeyoung’s eye, she twists away, blood boiling under her skin.

“w-what are you doing?!” she demands loudly, flustered that her head is ringing. “why are y- why are you na- are you really–?”

“because our clothes are wet and we’ll both die of hypothermia if we don’t warm our bodies up quickly,” you simply reply, “and you did say the smell.”

“i-i can just wash t-them!”

“with what!? we don’t have soap.”

“i can use my–”

“i’m not an idiot like the hunters i brought with me, witch. i know that your magic needs an output—your hands—and something solid. you can’t just will things with air alone. it’s either you get your clothes off or we both freeze to death. the nightgown you’re wearing doesn't do much as it already is.”

chaeyoung stares at the wall, fingers bunching up against her sleeves, which are half frozen and stark cold. even with the fire gradually heating the small cabin, she’s still shivering, fingers hinted purple. it’s a decision she has to make.

“fine,” she snaps soon after, reaching for the hem of her gown, “but if-if you look, i’ll–”

“my heart won’t dance for a desire to see you barren, witch. in fact—” you toss a large pelt of fur at her, making her gasp at the weight of it. “cover yourself when you’re done.”

she frowns but nods silently, glancing over her shoulder to see if you’re looking (you weren’t) and pulls the gown over her head, tugging the socks and underwear off as well. covering herself with the fur, exhaling through her closed teeth. when she approaches the fire, you look over to her, ears slightly hinted with pink, lips and eyebrows clasped together on themselves at what chaeyoung was doing.

“are you seriously trying to warm yourself in front of the fire? have you no knowledge of proper warming techniques?”

“what?” chaeyoung asks defensively.

you sit up, the blanket draping to your waist, exposing your skin and the tailored muscle of your upper body. “we need to share body heat to stay warm.”

chaeyoung blinks rapidly, flustered. “but we’re naked.”

“that’s kind of the whole point of this thing.”

“if this is some attempt to–”

“what?” your eyes flash at her challenge, daring to say what she can bring herself to think straight, and after a few moments, she turns away and sighs out.

“alright,” she starts off, crawling towards you, keeping the large fur on her body with a skin tight grip. “but if you have the slightest thought of—”

“i’d rather feed myself to the wolves than to touch you.” you spit out in frustration. chaeyoung feels a small hint of dismay. your disgust is a doting reminder that you don’t consider her to be a human being.

the thought chills chaeyoung even after she’s snuggles herself beneath the covers. her skin easing up with shivers, startled when you grab her shoulder.

“relax,” you say, inching closer. your eyes were shining with utmost intensity. “this is how we survive together.”

you huddle closer, your hand slipping through her naked waist and dragging chaeyoung up against you, pressing chests together. a punched out exhale and trembles with so much force that she feels the vibration to her bones. your skin was cold like hers, but there's a small relief with the contact. chaeyoung knows this is how we survive together, and places her hand on your neck.

you tense at the contact, growling with a flush of pink on your cheeks. “what are you—?”

chaeyoung hushes you. “i’m warming you u-up, mean hunter.”

you zip your lips after that, eyes getting hazy and after a few seconds, you tap chaeyoung’s hand off.

the heat loosens your limbs as it grows between you two. chaeyoung sighs, her wet hair brushing against your neck as she shifts. you whisper, “l/n.”

“what?”

“my name, y/n l/n.”

she already knew that though. “okay.” chaeyoung huffs out.

“what’s yours? or should i keep calling you witch.?”

chaeyoung doesn’t want you to call her anything; names carry so much weight; putting a face to it, making them stand out and different than others, but the warmth must’ve softened her under the covers because she answers your question. “son chaeyoung.”

“son chaeyoung.” you say her name slowly, accent hugging the syllables the same way her father’s did. the comparison seems too similar.

within minutes after speaking names, you both fall asleep.

you wake up the morning after the first night with the witch pressed to your chest, her arms wrapped around your middle, and cheek pressed flat against your breast. her hair on the crown of her head tickles your chin.

you swat it away with your hands, negating the spike of panic trickling down your spine, and you shift, trying to extract yourself from her grip. chaeyoung hums softly in protest, clinging to you tighter as her eyes flutter open, long lashes shadowing her cheeks. her gaze is half-lidded, exhausted, but once she notices who she’s clinging onto, she pulls away from you as you both sit up on the large bed.

the awkward silence filling the space between you two, curdling thoughts in your head, but before you could utter something, chaeyoung turned around, her small mouth pressed to a frown.

“i need animal fat and some wood.” she says, before you could even conjure up a good morning—which you wouldn't have, “so you go hunt today.”

you eyes squint as you fix your seated position. chaeyoung scoots away to the corner of the bed, her furs covering her slipping beneath the slope of her petite breasts. an action which earns a warning look from you.

“what’s the use of these items?”

“to make soap for the laundry. you’ll have to use your dirty clothes still, but the sooner you get me these things, the better.”

“how do you expect to make soap from fat and bark?”

“the elders have taught me everything i know.”

you get up from the bed without looking at chaeyoung, not fazed by the resentment, shivering as you cross over to the lonely rack pilfered with all of the dirty clothes that you’ve worn for the past couple of days. the smell still penetrating through your nostrils, she was right about getting these clothes washed as soon as possible.

after tugging the heavy jacket over your toned body, you feel chaeyoung’s gaze lasering on you, causing you to turn around and raise a brow at her.

“anything else?”

“try to get a few animals. i’m gonna need more than one to make enough soap for both of us and our clothes.”

“that all?”

“come back quickly, we don’t have any food still.” a second passes before she grumbles another lasting addition. “it’s also cold, so it’s not safe for you to be out that long.”

you feel your lips twitching—to a frown and surely, “you sound like my old nana.”

chaeyoung keeps a straight face cooly. “go.”

you obey while rolling your eyes out the door. slinging a bow and quiver of arrows as you stepped out to the frigid cold, wrapping your cloak more deeply with a drawn out exhale. the thought of tossing the witch chaeyoung out here in the snow for her to suffer as well, but the thought was pointless, nearly impractical.

as you walk into the forest about twenty minutes away from the cabin, your mind falls into a calming state, a serenity as such with every calming breath leaving your mouth. ears perking to any sudden sound while brandishing your weapon. your experience breaking through the many lessons taught by your father and late brother before they both died. the image of them passing through your mind as the anger from the old memory rises up again.

a rabbit comes into you line of vision, looking over a small snowy hill with its head moving in all directions, leaping away when it sees you, but you were faster with the arrow shot lodging into its eye.

“one, but let’s pray that there isn’t a bear nearby.”

chaeyoung had instructed you to not be out for long, but there's the thought that you and her will be staying in the cabin longer than anticipated, so by getting familiar with the present surroundings around your makeshift home was the more logical idea. everything once barren with life was covered in snow. the cold was unforgiving as it is, a beauty that you could admire.

the new area is opened up more when you see a frozen lake, placed in the middle of the dead trees. crows surround the lake, flying around before disappearing into the white sky.

you notice another nearby bird and rabbit, drawing both of your arrows to shoot them at the same time. the bag behind you was now filled with various pieces of animal corpses and wood, the gusts of wind not letting up as you gripped your cloak to ease your shivering.

“i wished i could be back home, not dealing with any of this ‘life test’.” you say out loud, looking up at the sky and smiling scornfully.

the thoughts of going back home once all of this was still a hopeful premonition you prayed to see through, but you’re reminded of the current situation with chaeyoung still waiting for you back in the cabin.

gut twisting, gazing at the frozen ice guarding the lake, wondering what the witch was doing. if she was keeping herself warm by the fire, waiting for your return, while you did the dirty work. you growl at the idea, opposed to be heeding to her calls. you swear to finish all of this by making her suffer when the moment presents itself.

and you will complete the mission, to get the information about the location of the other witches from her before doing the same thing you did to chaeyoung’s village almost an entire week ago.

it all could’ve been so simple; just slit her throat and leave her. going back home brings a smile to your lips, you could already picture the look on her face, how her hands will claw your shoulders, begging for her life to be spared. the dagger that you used for the wolves and other witches you’ve slain will be the sole tool–pinning her against the floor and then—

you crack open the door and stomp off the snow from your sleek boots, hearing a soft hum coming form the fireplace at the other end. the song preaching about peace and tranquil, hopes of good times coming back sung by a bright pleasant voice that stops all of your motions.

that’s all stopped suddenly since you startled the witch–chaeyoung–as she faced you, her black eyes wide, color piercing through the cheeks. she sits in front of the fireplace, still naked in the bundle of furs, still embarrassed, to no surprise.

you fight off the urge to smile. ignoring the moment to relish in your delusional madness.

“you sing like a pretty angel.” you greet with a sheepish tone in your voice, making her irritated automatically.

“i appreciate the compliment.” chaeyoung scowls at you.

you step inside more, expression miffed. “i wasn’t…you think i was teasing?”

“weren’t you?”

“yes,” you immediately answer. your face shifts again, “i was actually, you calming baby beast.”

“don’t call me that!” she snaps at you, flushing down to her feet, before turning back to the fireplace. she stares at the flame, senses up to eleven as you approach her, holding your bag to her. she takes it, fingers hitting each other for a second, gasping at the sudden cold on our gloves, facing you as she smooths her hand under the sleeves of your cloak and up your wrist.

“you’re ice cold,” a concerned tone in her voice and stands up. she walks you to the bed, hand on your stomach, dropping to the bed as she pushes you to face the ceiling. you stare at her dazed, chaeyoung placing her palms on the sides of your neck. closing her eyes to focus, she pulses a surge of warmth beneath the hands, sending that same heat to your body. you sigh out a harsh sound, once chaeyoung pull away from you she was satisfied with her work, noticing the pain wincing on your face.

“thank you.” you were able to croak out.

chaeyoung nods, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks, stepping away. clinging to her fur tightly reminded of the fact that she was still naked under them, and a lot colder now that she’s used her magic; warming you up with her own body heat.

you sense this, shooting up to your feet and headed to the same rack that held your clothes before you left this morning, fishing out a garment that was printed with strawberries all over it. she looks at the childish looking fabric as you wrap it over her neck, ears pink as she meets your eyes again.

“i saw this before i left to hunt.” you say with a low voice, “you also have less clothes compared to me. this should help you a little bit at least.” a few heartbeats pass before you ask, “are you warm?”

“yes.” chaeyoung replies, hardly uttering from the lump in her throat in addition to the churning turmoil unsettling in her gut.

you nod. it’s a stoic movement, as if you were unfamiliar with your own act of kindness. you step off to teh side and let her pass, looking away from the new space of proximity.

“i’ll make the soap now.”

“good. let me know if you need more things from outside.” you say to her without even looking.

“you need a bath,” chaeyoung says, almost immediately after she finished up their laundry. “we both do.”

you look up from your plateful of rabbit, a hint of bread crumbs on your lips. the clothes were drying over the rack, near the fire, so they sat with thick furs covering them.

“you’re saying that i smell?” you ask.

“horribly, you have no idea how hard it is to sleep next to you.”

“didn’t look like that to me earlier this morning.”

chaeyoung scowls but leaves you to finish the rest of your dinner. once finished, and the clothes have finally dried up, you take the large bucket and step outside. five minutes later you come back inside with the bucket filled with snow and sit back down while they wait. “you gonna go first?”

“no.” chaeyoung says instantly. “you have to.”

“why me?”

“because you’re the one doing the labor.” and hunting, building the fires, carried me around the wilderness for five days, chaeyoung thinks but won’t actually admit. a thought that shouldn’t have crossed her mind but it did. “you smell worse compared to me.”

your eyes squint in offense, but recede any sort of argument against her. she watches you sniff your arm when you think she looked away for a second, nodding after in agreement.

when the water in the bucket stars to boil, dragging it away from the fireplace, waiting for it to cool down. once at a bearable temperature, you strip. chaeyoung’s cheeks shoot red and immediately turns toward the small dining table. you had a terrible habit of doing that in front of her. any given moment to change, you never gave her a heads up.

“this bucket is a little small baby beast.” you grumble, chaeyoung fights the response of stop calling me that–she’s tried. no luck, you were attached to that nickname now–turning around to say, “not a bucket technically, more of a tub and–”

she stops herself with a muted giggle, pressing her fingers to lips. you stare at her, your arms submerged in the water, knees peeking through the surface and your shoulders shuugged up to your ears. as she just thought, you were a little too tall with muscle to actually fit inside.

“don’t–”

“i wasn’t laughing, nothing that you do is amusing enough.”

“then how come you’re smiling at me right now?”

“i’m not–” cutting yourself off when she notices something, pulling her hand away at the new question in her head. “are you not going to wash your hair?”

“i just did.”

“it doesn’t look like it touched the water.”

“i put some water in it.”

“with soap?”

“just water.”

chaeyoung cringes while standing up. “you’re an idiot, you have long hair and you don’t know how to wash it?”

“i know how to!” you retort. “i just don’t like sleeping with wet hair.”

“well you’re not going to sleep if you don’t was your hair.”

“alright!” you snap, reaching for the small bar of soap and rubbing it in between your palms. “are you happy now?”

“not exactly what i meant.” chaeyoung replies while watching you weave your fingers through your hair with the soapy substance. she steps closer to you, dipping her fingers into the water to wet them a little bit, picking up the bar of soap and runs her fingers through your hair.

with the initial stiffness, you relax into her easing touch, leaning towards her when she rubs her thumbs against your temples. the water was more tepid now than five minutes ago, so with a deep breath, chaeyoung draws heat to her palms, scraping lightly against your scalp, sighing out in relief.

chaeyoung’s fingers slide down to the nape of your neck, massaging the tense muscle group there. you slouch even more, mouth parte, and she starts to take note of the lines on your face: the high brow and sharp cheekbones, the pink curve of your mouth, and the flawless sculpt of your jaw. the roots of your hair on the top of your head were healthy to chaeyoung’s shock.

she also doesn’t recall seeing someone like you growing up and going to many different villages of different witches, but you really were a beautiful woman, a shame that beauty was wasted on you.

“you’ve been feeling my face for too long, witch.” you slur out, fingers still tickling your scalp as chaeyoung clicks her tongue.

“i think i’d rather drown you like this, idiot hunter.”

“y/n.” you whipser mindlessly, before holding yourself back of speaking another word. once washing the suds away from your hair, chaeyoung wipes her hands in the fur. you look at her, blinking the dreamy layer in your eyes, and it was here that the reality of her actions begin to brew a change of heart. she turns away, staring at her kneecaps.

you get up from the large bucket and dry yourself with a stretch of fabric that chaeyoung found while you were out. after putting back on the clean, dry clothes, you take the bucket back outside and return with a fresh pile of snow for chaeyoung’s bath.

why did i do that? chaeyoung thinks slently, embarrassment through the roof within her. i didn’t need to do that.

just minutes later you come back inside, placing the bucket near the fire again. you turn to seek chaeyoung again, finding her on the floor clearly shivering.

“are you cold?” you ask, reaching for her stack of furs.

“a little b-bit.”

“you’re freezing.” you observe, covering her with the pelt of fur before placing your palm on the flat side of her cheek.

“it’s the fire isn’t it.”

“no i-it’s my magic.”

“your magic?”

“when i-i warm my palms, i have to use my o-own body h-heat to use it. making me a l-lot more colder t-then for a c-couple of h-hours.”

your face becomes slack jawed, “so that’s why you were cold when i came back earlier?”

chaeyoung nods, your brows furrow, and you pull the bucket away from the fire. you place your hand on the outer rim, letting the hot water burn your fingers. “you should’ve waited for me.”

“i had t-to. we need each other remember? i can’t survive if you’re suffering from hypothermia too.”

“this shouldn’t be an issue, chaeyoung.”

“well for now it is, but i need you to be healthy for me in order to get better.”

“and i need you to be warm for me.”

chaeyoung’s throat closes in on itself. the crackling flame was all that was heard in the room. its light emiitng just enough for her eyes to see your harsh muscle and shadowed outlines, but your eyes were soft and gleaming. dark brown.

as always since they first met, she was the one to turn away from you first.

you sigh, tapping the bucket, “your bath is ready baby beast. hurry up so that we can go to bed, it’s late.”

the days pass by and the routine was oh so easy to fall into, nothing else mattered–but your own survival.

you get up in the mornings while chaeyoung is still asleep to build the fire up so that when you leave to go hunting again, the cabin would be already warm for her when she wakes up. to keep themselves busy, she would make breakfast next to the fireplace that they eat together on the floor.

if there was a small shortage of food, you’d go out to hunt. if the clothes were dirty, chaeyoung would be the one to wash them. a tear in the fabric, she sews them. regular housekeeping duties as the harsh winter weather starts to let up little by little, day by day.

on one occasion, you bring back a pocketful of nuts, probably stolen from a squirrel or something of that degree, and it excites chaeyoung beyond all reason.

she’s enjoying this far more than she should, but it was so simple to think about.

“you’re from the kingdom?” chaeyoung asks, one morning while still snuggled up in bed.

it was early that the sun was breaking through the peaks, a calming white light glaring through the windows. you lean up on your elbow, cheek against your fist as you softly smile at her. “have you ever been to the mainland? or a city for that matter?”

“no.” chaeyoung admits, unashamed from the snickering coming out of your mouth soon after. “i grew up in the mountains.”

“for all of your life?”

“pretty much, but with my parents of course.”

“i figured.” you smugly say, rubbing your finger against the beauty mark under the right side of her bottom lip. “you didn’t look like the others back in the village.”

chaeyoung looks away from your gaze for a moment, recalling the image of little diana’s body. a wave of anger building up from the sentimental moment, but she doesn’t want to think about it now.

“they took me in after my parents died.” she says to you. you expression shifts and you lean a little more closer with the cover still enveloping you.

“how old were you when that happened?”

“i was nine. a sudden plague sweeped the town i was living at and it nearly took everyone. at the same time, a wise woman found me and sensed my potential power, so she asked me to come with her.”

“that must’ve been hard.”

“it was, but i didn’t have anywhere to go.”

you stare, a strange glint dashing at your eyes. after a moment, “i lost my mother too around that age.”

“oh.” chaeyoung breathes out, leaning up to match you. “was she also caught with the sickness too?”

you sit up, gaze still locked with hers, face not contorting a single emotion at all, “not exactly.”

sitting on the edge of the bed, you grip the frame with your fingers, chaeyoung’s resenmnt tolls through her again; she didn’t like how you’d get suddenly depressed when you were just simply opening up about your life to her. it was unbearable to watch sometimes.

she sits next to you, touching your arm. when you look back at her, she asks, “tell me more about this kingdom.”

“why would you want to know?”

“beacuse i want to hear what it’s like, the mountains here are the only thing i know around here.”

“well,” you huff out, “where do i even start? we have houses like yours, but built properly, people in the kingdom have similar jobs like yours; eating, cleaning, trading. it’s all protected by this wall that keeps most of the outside threats away.

“really? it’s the same as the village?”

you smirk, “yes, sort of, but it’s kind of like the same concept really.” you say, clutching your leg as you stare up at the ceiling.

she hums with a slight giddy to her attitude, you then ask, “so what about you? what’s it like in the village?”

chaeyoung purses her lips thinking about the question, trying to not say anything stupid, “well, when i wasn’t focused on my craft, i was always keeping an eye on the younger girls.”

“your village was all girls?”

“yes,” chaeyoung admits, blushing a bit. “in fact, you’re the first woman hunter that i’ve seen as a proper leader of their pack.”

“really?”

“mhm” she hums, pressing her jaw against her knee, eyes trailing off your jawline. “i’ve always wondered about something.”

“what is it?”

“are there other female witch hunters like you?”

“well,” you start off by saying, “i’ve heard the rumors but to my knowledge i’m the only one around here.”

“oh.”

“you seem shocked.”

“i’m not.” she says, shaking her head. “you’re a lot more mature than the disgusting men you had as your fellow hunters.”

“i appreciate the compliment, those men were dumbasses towards you after all.”

chaeyoung scoffs at what you said, gazing into your features again as the light started breaking more and more into the cabin.

“we should start the day early shouldn’t we?” you say, grabbing a shirt from one of the posts on the bed and slipping it on, “i still have the three birds that you can cook from yesterday, that’s our breakfast.”

“okay.”

“i’ll also get more firewood outside too, we’re almost out.”

“okay.” chaeyoung says again, but before you start to head out she adds, “i’m glad that it’s you that i’m stuck with and not those men.”

your lips part for a moment, “i’m glad that we’ve survived for this long together too.”

“so what about–”

you toss the strawberry printed fabric towards chaeyoung on the bed, cheeks hinting with a small pink facing away from her, “you’re gonna need this.”

“baby beast.”

chaeyoung moans softly under the covers, turning away from your hand and tries to go back to sleep. the hand at her shoulder continues to shake her more persistently, “wake up, i wanna show you something.”

she huffs out and rolls to her left side, facing you, eyes fluttering open to meet yours. you smile and lean over her, bruising the wispy bangs from her face. “are you gonna get out of bed now?”

“why?” she asks, nearly whining. your grin widens at the sound of her tickling your ear drums.

“there’s a lake here i want you to see.”

“the lake?” chaeyoung stretches out to see you shuffle over to the other end of the cabin, fetching her cloak and boots, shoving her feet inside the warm objects while wrapping the cloak over her shoulders, watching you pat down the cloak and tie the strings at her chest. getting the small strawberry printed fabric for her to carry in her pocket.

“what’s there at the lake?” she asks you, rubbing her eyes again to make her more awake.

“nothing special.” you say, but your eyes were beaming with pure excitement like a child, “i just want you to see it like i did.”

in a few minutes, both of you are properly dressed and out the door. despite the chilling air, chaeyoung sigs when she steps into the snowy ground, looking up to inhale the sharp, crisp air, watching her breath materialize into a small fog in front of her. she missed going outside because of the lack of body temperature and proper clothing.

you didn’t like chaeyoung to be out for more than actually needed, but the worst part of the winter had eased up by this point so it’s not that dangerous to get out of the cabin for once.

leading her into the first, chaeyoung is astonished by the sight, the trees arching above her head that she couldn’t see the branches on them. the white snow glittering beneath her feet, reflecting off the sunlight beaming down on them. the view was majestic, and a sight that she wishes she had forced herself up right away at first to see earlier.

you take her hand, chaeyoung looks up to see your impatience, dragging her along the trail, making her almost jog slightly because of your long graceful strides.

“why are we walking fast? won’t we scare the animals?”

“yes, but i’m technically hunting them so it wouldn’t even matter. anyway, better for us to make noise to scare a wolf or bear rather than staying quiet and run into one.”

“and if we did?”

you smirk, “then i’d kill it myself to get a new coat.” you say with eagerness.

chaeyoung doesn’t have the courage to tell you that you’d likely die before pulling that off.

you and her both slow down your pace once guiding her past the slew of trees. with your hands on chaeyoung’s shoulders, you push her past the short bushes and into an open space. her view takes in the frozen lake in the center, sprinkled with snow in different patches across the icy layer. she sees a lonely cub sliding across the lake, clearly lost looking for its mother.

you lean in close, your breath tickling the hair on her nape, “do you see that little bear cub standing there?”

“i do.”

the cub then runs away funnily, reaching the other side of the lake with ease before disappearing into the sea of trees. “it reminds me of you, baby beast.”

chaeyoung then rips her gaze away from the sight to look up at you, staring down at her, the shine her eyes becoming more and more familiar, almost as if she’s used to your teasing, then glancing away from you after. her body warms up suddenly, but not to the point to diminish the shiver that rolls across her skin when another wave of wind blows in again, making you turn chaeyoung into your arms.

“cold?”

“i–”

you didn’t even bother waiting for her answer, hands sliding beneath her cloak and around her waist. her nightgown bunching up between your palms, sliding them up and down, making chaeyoung flush up quickly, turning her head to your throat and closing her eyelids against your neck.

“how’s that feel?”

“better.” chaeyoung whispers against your skin.

she wants to break away from your grasp. the fact that you’re holding her and she’s allowing it should be ringing alarms in her head, she’s supposed to push you away, but for some reason–she can’t find a reason why.

“i think we should head back now. the cold is getting to you again.”

“it isn’t, but—” a sudden realization comes back to her mind, glazing at the mound of snow before meeting your eyes, hands clasping yours through the thick woolen gloves. “can i show you something before we go?”

“um, yeah. sure.” you reply confusedly, thrown off by her earnestness.

chaeyoung then pulls you over to a small area nearby the meeting point of the frozen lake with the ground, eyes flickering towards before looking at the snow. closing her eyes and exhaling out a warm breath against the icy surface, a small sparkle shimmers through her fingertips for a few seconds. at the end of that, a snowdrop appears to sprout from the cold dirt. she smiles with her mouth stretching from one end of her face to the other, glancing at you looking intrigued.

“do you like it?”

you knelt down to examine the flower, studying it with a tilted head. “i’ve never seen this one in the books back at home. what is it?”

“oh, it’s just some kind of flower. i don’t actually know what it is either, but it’s pretty isn’t it?”

you pluck the flower from the ground as soon she finishes her answer, breath hitching when you nestle it in between her hair, fingers grazing the outer lobe of her ear. you smile, your eyes warm with so much fondness as well as glowing in a soft color, a calming color actually.

“it’s beautiful.” you whisper out.

chaeyoung almost cries, catching herself melt for a slight second.

later on the way back to the cabin, chaeyoung hears a string of cracks in the trees to her right side. you pick up on the sound too, putting yourself in front of her as protection when they see the movement in the lines of trunks finally come into formation—another wolf.

chaeyoung is startled at the similar sight of the wolf that tried to devour her when she first got captured, but this was different since she was now with you, but the situation wasn’t safe just yet.

“we’re gonna make a run for the cabin, okay? it’s just up this trail. chaeyoung, i need you to keep your head forward and don’t look back, i’ll draw it’s attention away from you.”

“but-”

“i need you to trust me.” you say, “i’ll protect you, just get to the cabin. let me take care of this.”

chaeyoung swallows the growing lump in her throat, complying with your request. the both of you start running with the wolf tailing just a few meters away behind you two. the cabin was just a couple short seconds away and you look back at the wolf who was approaching closer.

“get inside and lock the door!” you command chaeyoung as she continues to run up the trail, doing exactly as you were told while she still worried about you. she couldn’t bear to look out the window, her ears hearing your yells and the wolf growls, the bashing of different objects mixed in with your pants.

she didn’t know how long it was since she first got back inside, but to her shock, she sees you stumbling inside the door, carrying something very unfamiliar.

chaeyoung notices the many gashes that were marked on your skin, the body of the same wolf that chased you two just behind you, the fur scratched, but still salvageable.

“did you just?!” she cries out, rushing towards you, grabbing your head while you wore a mad grin, eyes half lidded and face scratched up.

“you were right about the wolf thing you know.”

“i can’t—” her breath hitches, choking down a sob. “i can’t believe you did that.”

you grip matches hers on your wrist that was on your face, “i protected you,” you whisper out, getting hazily.

the way that your head was moving so much and the glint in your eyes, it seemed that the fight almost took you out entirely.

chaeyoung huffs, wrapping her arm around your shoulder and brings you to the bed, where she lays you down carefully, smoothing your hair away from your disfigured face from the cuts. she leaves you to get a bowl full of snow from outside, you frowning once she returned.

“why’d you go outside?”

“to get you something to cool these cuts from the stupid wolf.”

“but i killed it still.”

“well that doesn’t matter!” chaeyoung snaps at you, placing the bowl on top of the fireplace. “take your shirt and bra off, i have to see your other cuts for me to properly heal you.”

you pout but follow along by taking off the jacket from your shoulders, wincing while the shirt came off of you, leaving you barren with your breasts out. chaeyoung notices the additional marks scattered across your midsection. if you did…and she wasn’t here with you—

“sorry, for being stupid.” you say with a prideful gloat.

“y/n, i can’t—” chaeyoung cries out, covering her mouth. “you could have died if you fought any longer.”

“say that again.”

“huh?!”

she pulls her hands way from her mouth, meeting your eyes as you clasp her wrist again, eyes looking woozy, almost drunken. “my name, say it again, baby beast.”

“y/n, what—”

you groan out in rapture, chaeyoung blushes for a second before taking the wet rag and swipes it across your skin, brushing over the wounds carefully. at the end, the water is coloered with a hint of pink and the rag is completely soaked, but the wounds are cleaned, now it’s just a matter of getting you patched up.

chaeyoung taps your cheek, leaning over you, “okay, i need you to be awake for this next part. i’m going to heal your wounds.”

“wait don’t–” you mumble out.

“why?” a wall of protection builds from her facial expression, “you don’t want my demon magic over you?”

“i don’t want you to faint on me.”

“it’s fine.” chaeyoung mutters, ducking her head in shame before centering her hands over your abs.

she moves her hands across your upper body, healing every slice and tear that was across your flesh. even the minor bruises from the bumps and hits you took not from the wolf, ensuring that everything was healed properly. once finished, chaeyoung collapses on top of you, her head drowsy.

“i told you to not faint silly.”

“you left me,” she trails off, “no other choice.” whispering the last sentence before passing out, making you shift her over your lap, wrapping your arms around her for a slight hug–a sign of thankfulness coming out of you which was rare.

“looks like i have to take care of you now.”

chaeyoung was already passed out as you slide her underneath the furs, secugen her across your chest, nestling her face on your warm skin, feeling her pulse beat under your fingers. the relief finally settles in her, letting out a small sob. since when did the thought of you dying start to terify her more than being alive?

as chaeyoung fingers graze your bare back, you plant a faint kiss on her temple and cheek.

“rest well, chaeyoung."

#twice x reader #twice imagines #kpop x reader #twice chaeyoung #son chaeyoung #chaeyoung fluff #twice fluff #kpop fluff #twice angst #chaeyoung angst #saiiidahyunee

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